


The More We Get Together

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Madara and denial are old friends, Tobirama helps, he sort of flails through life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 43,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Madara used to be a man feared even by those of his own clan. Life's really changed since the village was built. Among those changes is his relationship with one Senju Tobirama - and apparently everyone else knew about this even before he did.





	1. Chapter 1

Even as a very young child Madara had understood that someday he would be the Head of his clan, that he would be responsible for the safety and protection of his people. It was a responsibility that he had taken seriously even back then and that hadn’t changed as he had gotten older. Madara was twenty-seven years old now, Head of the Uchiha clan, and co-founder of the village of Konohagakure. Every member of his clan knew without doubt that Madara would protect them with his own life’s blood, defend them, uphold their honor.

What he hadn’t banked on was babysitting duty.

Hashirama had laughed at him when he first found out. Who better to trust with the safety of one’s child than the clan Head? Madara would have loved to know who came up with the idea first so that he could banish them from the clan. What did he know about children? He was a man built for war and battlefields, not for entertaining tiny children or singing lullabies.

Worse was that the children seemed to adore him and he didn’t quite know what to do with the ones that ran at him with high pitched squeals only to latch on to his leg and stare up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Was he supposed to shake them off? Did others somehow manage to walk around like normal and just leave them there to hang? And at what point was he allowed to fight back when they began to crawl up his body as though he were some sort of training post that they were determined to reach the top of?

No one seemed to want to answer any of these questions when he asked them, preferring to simply laugh in his face. Not that he dared to ask anyone besides Hashirama. It was bad enough that his clan seemed to suddenly come under the impression that their Head could be used as a free babysitting service; he didn’t need anyone else in the village knowing about this atrocious soft spot in his otherwise armored personality.

So when Madara found himself alone in his house with a squalling newborn he knew there was only one person to go to for help. He’d never been entrusted with anyone under the age of four before. How exactly did one make this noise stop? The bottles the mother had left with him seemed to garner no interest, talking did nothing but cause the thing to scream louder, and despite a large amount of reluctance he had even peeked in to the cloth diaper to ensure it was clean. He’d never heard anything like this in his life. Within an hour his head was pounding and Madara was forced to give in.

He was going to need Hashirama’s help.

Of course, there was absolutely no way that Uchiha Madara could be seen traipsing through the village with a cute, squishy little baby in his arms. His reputation would be in tatters before he even arrived at his friend’s door. Hoping against hope that it was safe to do this with a child at this age, Madara held his little bundle tight to his chest with one hand and made a seal with the other. The body flicker carried him right to Hashirama’s front door and he bolted inside with more speed than he typically might have used in a fight.

He would have felt a little bad about bringing this level of noise in to someone else’s home, especially so early and without any warning, but he figured that if he had to suffer through this then Hashirama should have to as well. The man of the house met him before he made it halfway down the front hall, sleepy looking and sporting a bewildered look on his face. As he took in the source of the noise that had broken in to his peaceful morning, bewilderment slowly changed to a cross between shameless amusement and soft fondness. Madara very much hoped that soft look was for the baby and not for him.

“You’ve got a baby,” Hashirama cooed. Such was Madara’s headache that he didn’t even bother to make a sarcastic comment about the other man’s observational skills.

“How do I make it stop?” he ask desperately.

“Make what stop?”

“The _sound_! How do I make him stop crying?”

Hashirama laughed, crossing his arms and leaning one shoulder against the wall. “Well he woke me up so everyone else is certainly awake. I give it a few more seconds before this problem solves itself.”

With his left eye twitching, Madara opened his mouth to tell Hashirama exactly what he thought of his stupid cryptic answer – he detested cryptic answers – when another door a few feet beyond them opened and Tobirama stepped out.

Only, it was Tobirama as Madara had never seen him before. His hair stuck out at wild angles, mussed from a night of sleep that appeared to still have a lingering hold on him. His eyes remained closed as he slowly shuffled towards the other two men, footsteps heavy and arms above his head in a spine cracking stretch. His shirt was twisted and his sleep pants were just that little bit too long so that his feet trod on the edges of the material.

Hashirama and Madara watched him come closer, seemingly drawn by the noise, and neither of them said a word when he came to a stop in front of the desperate Uchiha. His arms reached unerringly for the child, plucking him from the other’s arms and cuddling the little baby up close to his own chest instead. Madara’s jaw nearly unhinged itself with shock when Tobirama began to hum, strolling away down the hall towards the living room.

Feeling as though he might be caught in a very strange genjutsu, Madara trailed after him to find the younger man doing laps around the couch, humming quietly and swaying gently with every step. The man who could bring entire armies to their knees just by scowling, who had a standing Do Not Engage order in several countries, was bouncing around the living room singing a baby to sleep. If his enemies could see him now they would fall to their knees laughing yet he didn’t seem to have a single care in the world. There was even a gentle smile on his face, eyes open now and looking down at the small body in his arms.

Even more miraculous was that it was working! Awe filled him as the piercing wails rapidly petered out until all he could hear was a deep voice humming a tune which tugged at nearly-forgotten memories. When a tiny voice cooed and gurgling in an inquisitive manner, Tobirama gave a low chuckle.

“So who’s this then?” he asked quietly, scrunching up his nose to make the baby giggle.

“I dunno.” Hashirama shrugged. “What’s his name, Madara?”

Tobirama’s head lifted at that, looking around until his eyes fell on Madara. The two of them stared at each other with varying levels of surprise until Tobirama blinked and looked back down at the baby he was holding.

“Uh…is this…yours?”

“Yes.” Madara shifted on his feet. “Well, no. Not _mine_. He’s – his name is Kagami. His parents are on a mission. And he wouldn’t stop crying. So I thought…” He trailed off as one of Tobirama’s eyebrows slid upwards.

“You thought Hashirama would help? Have you ever seen Aniki with a baby? Last time someone let him hold a child _he_ cried.”

From across the room Hashirama pouted with a half-hearted, “Hey!”

“I can’t say I would have expected you to be much better,” Madara pointed out what, to him, was obvious. Tobirama rolled his eyes, seemingly unaware that his body was still swaying rhythmically from side to side, rocking the baby as little Kagami continued to coo.

“Oh, Tobirama loves kids!” Hashirama beamed over at his best friend as though this statement wasn’t in direct conflict with the rest of Tobirama’s public persona. His younger brother huffed as though offended. Then he ruined the image by absently tickling the baby’s belly and looking down with a smile when Kagami giggled.

“Shut up,” he murmured without much heat.

Madara wasn’t sure if the gurgling noise he could hear was coming from him or the child. If he had to guess based on the look Hashirama was sending his way, he thought it might be him.

It just wasn’t _fair_. How dare Senju Tobirama look anything even close to resembling the word ‘cute’? How dare he stand there all rumpled from sleep with a babe in his arms and look like everything Madara had ever wanted in a partner? And how _dare_ he spark a sudden revelation that Madara’s loins were only too enthusiastic to agree with? He certainly hadn’t signed up for any of this bullshit today and he found it incredibly unfair that he was having to deal with both a crying baby and a sudden attraction to someone he thought he had decided to hate for life.

Stupid sexy Senju. What it in their _genes_?

“I should probably go,” Madara announced after clearing his throat. He wanted to deal with this as far from here as possible.

“Aww, you can’t even stay for breakfast?” Hashirama whined.

“The child needs to be fed as well, Aniki,” Tobirama pointed out. “Unless you happen to have some breast milk laying around, Madara is correct. He should probably go.” Hashirama turned a brilliant shade of red and shook his head no.

Madara wondered for a brief moment if it was worth trying to pretend that Tobirama was just being practical. It didn’t last long. Chances were that Tobirama wanted him gone just as much as he wanted to go, although for different reasons. As much as he had always professed hatred for the younger man that sentiment had certainly been returned just as ardently every time. Developing a crush on Tobirama would not be the best idea he ever had and Madara absolutely did not want to go down that road if he could help it.

As he accepted little Kagami back from the one who had soothed him, however, and took in the soft expression on Tobirama’s face while he said his silent goodbyes to the cute little bugger, Madara felt the urge to sigh. Evidently he’d already gone down that road at some point when he wasn’t paying attention. He was overwhelmed with the desire to have that soft fond look directed at _him_.

He was doomed was what he was.

“Feel free to bring him back any time!” Hashirama waved to them cheerfully as he retreated towards the front door and let himself out. Madara didn’t bother to answer, just sent one last scowl over his shoulder as he let the door shut behind himself. He body flickered back home the moment he was outside and passed the wards that Tobirama had built in to the Senju’s main family household.

By the time he had scurried back in to his own home Kagami had fallen asleep in his cocoon of blankets. The first thing he saw upon entering was Izuna in his kitchen raiding his fridge. Madara stood in the doorway with a harried look on his face as his brother straightened, assuming a worried expression and asking what was wrong with a tilt of the head. Madara dropped his head back with a low keening sound.

“Why me, Izuna? Why me?”

“What happened?” His sibling looked down at the sleeping form he was holding. “Long day huh?”

Still careful of his fragile burden, Madara wobbled the three steps it took to reach the table before collapsing in to one of the chairs and closing his eyes. If he tried hard enough, could he convince the ground to open up and swallow him? He had no idea how he was supposed to help run a village with someone he’d only just realized that he was apparently attracted to. They already fought like cats and dogs on a regular basis; this could only make things worse.

“Did something happen to Kagami?” Izuna tried again, worry audibly increasing in his tone when he didn’t receive an answer.

“No. Well, sort of.” Madara groaned. “He wouldn’t stop crying. So I took him to Hashirama and-“

He paused, eyes opening to give his brother an incredulous look when the younger started laughing, hand over his mouth to muffle the noise so as not to wake the baby.

“What, pray tell, is so funny?”

“Y-you took a crying baby to the Senju household before the sun was up?” Izuna’s words were interspersed with uncontrolled giggles. Madara glared.

“What of it?” he demanded.

“I’d bet my favorite sword it wasn’t Hashirama who helped you out.”

The suggestive wink, Madara thought, was entirely unnecessary.

“How did you know that!?”

“Oh come on.” Izuna gave him an unrepentant look. “Everyone knows Tobirama loves kids.”

Madara growled and gnashed his teeth together. _He_ hadn’t known that. How did _Izuna_ know that? Admittedly, he did usually try to avoid the man like he had the plague. That probably left very few chances for Madara to see him interact with children.

“You’re supposed to respect your elders, Izuna. If you’re just going to mock me then you can leave.”

“Oh, wait, I think I know what happened.” Izuna ignored his bristly words and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms with a vicious grin. “Finally figured out you’ve got a crush on him, huh?”

Madara dropped his head back again with a loud whine. Izuna laughed and Madara made a mental note to murder his little brother.

Right after he had dug a hole and buried himself in it.


	2. Chapter 2

Obviously he heard the door when it opened but wasn’t able to check and see who it was at the moment. He’d heard the knocking too but with four children climbing up his form at once Madara hadn’t exactly had the ability to cross the house to answer it. Even after he heard slow footsteps approach and stop in the doorway it had still taken him almost a full minute to look up. He wasn’t all that worried. It could only be Izuna or Hashirama and he’d long since given up the idea of having any dignity in their eyes.

“Ow! Chiko my hair is not a climbing rope! Kanda, no – hey! I need my arm! Get off! Stop!”

He probably looked like some kind of oversized wild bird, dancing on the spot and trying to shake off the two who were swinging from his arms while at the same time scolding the little girl with her sticky fists curled in to his hair. He’d almost entirely given up on the two-year-old boy wrapped around his shin like a koala bear, one thumb firmly tucked between his teeth. When the two hooligans on his arms began to swing back and forth Madara let out a whine and threw a desperate look over to the doorway, hoping whoever it was would have mercy and offer help.

Tobirama looked back at him with wonder in his eyes and a more awed expression than Madara had ever seen on anyone other than Hashirama.  He was holding a folder full of documents, undoubtedly the ones that he’d said would need a signature the moment they were completed, but it was close to slipping from his fingers in his shock at the scene before him.

Neither man moved a muscle for what felt like an endless forever yet was only a handful of heartbeats. Then Chiko squealed and pulled his hair and Madara’s head jerked back with a startled grunt.

“ _Chiko_!” Despite attempting to infuse his voice with stern admonition, the clan Head was woefully aware that it only came out sounding like a pathetic whimper. With some effort he managed to roll his head to the side so he could send another pleading look towards Tobirama, pride be damned. “Help me…”

Tobirama’s lip was a deep pink from being bitten so hard when he released it and Madara could only stare at the color of it as the younger man slowly set his folder down on a nearby table and strolled calmly in to the living room.

“Who wants lunch?”

And just like that he was free. All four of the little horrors let go of Madara immediately in favor of swarming Tobirama. How he managed to evade the same treatment was a mystery but within moments he had herded them all in the general direction of the kitchen, Chiko trotting demurely at his side and little two-year-old Minori all cuddled up in his arms. Madara was left reeling, nearly overbalancing and falling across the couch from the sudden loss of weight pulling at him. He put one hand to the side of his head and questioned whether or not he might just be having a very strange dream. Tobirama wasn’t really in his house. His best friend’s little brother who hated him was not currently helping himself to Madara’s kitchen facilities to feed the kids lunch. Any moment now he would wake up and discover the little snot-rags had actually knocked him out and somehow set his house on fire.

It took him a few moments to make himself follow. It seemed incredible to him that neither one of them had managed to insult the other yet, despite the quickness of their interaction. Just because he found the man attractive didn’t mean anything. Of course he still hated him. Obviously. And that was of course the only reason he had been avoiding the other man this past week.

When he did walk in to the kitchen it was to see three children coloring placidly at the dining table and Tobirama with a toddler on his hip, staring in to one of the cupboards with a disapproving tilt to his mouth. Madara gaped at the children – how in all the hells were they suddenly so calm? How did he do that? – until his attention was redirected when his surprise guest spoke.

“Why is there nothing in your kitchen, Uchiha?” Tobirama wasn’t even looking at him yet Madara could practically _hear_ the single raised eyebrow just from his tone. He hated that eyebrow, he really did.

“There’s plenty in my kitchen!” Madara stomped over to the fridge, wrenching it open and glaring at the contents. “See! Food!”

Tobirama peeked over his shoulder. “Where are your spices? Seasonings? Why can I not seem to find a ladle anywhere?” Madara turned to spit some kind of nasty epithet then stopped, rendered silent by how close their faces were and the distracting shape of that eyebrow which he very much hated. His silence gave the other man time to continue, “I despair for you. What have you even been feeding these children?”

Both of them flinched away when they nearly knocked heads standing up out of the fridge, turning at the same time to listen to the small voice which had just piped up.

“Yesterday! Yesterday Madara-sama held an apple for us to eat and it was yummy!” Kanda beamed at them over his half-finished drawing.

“Do you mean he gave you an apple to eat?” Tobirama asked. Kanda shook his head cheerfully.

“Nope! Madara-sama held out the apple and we all took bites from it!”

By the way Tobirama’s head turned slowly towards him and the absolutely thunderous expression on his face, Madara understood that he had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure what it was but he had a feeling he was about to be told by an angry Senju with a kid on one hip. Luckily little Kanda spoke up again. Madara had never loved a child more than he did right at that moment.

“I like Madara-sama. He makes funny faces!”

Perhaps he could amend that last thought. He loved no child. Children were evil rapscallions who contributed nothing good to society and they could all go hang for all he cared. Funny faces indeed. His faces were terrifying, thank you very much. He’d had enemies flee at the mere sight of him; what did this tiny creature know about anything? Kanda didn’t seem too sorry for spewing such terribly incorrect misinformation. He looked rather pleased with himself, in fact.

A quick glance to the side told Madara that Tobirama, too, suddenly seemed more amused than angry. In an effort not to show his relief at having escaped one of the Senju’s famous scoldings, Madara assumed an affronted look and tilted his head challengingly. Tobirama huffed what might have been a very quiet laugh and turned away from him. Minori squirmed and fussed a bit when he was set down in his high chair but quieted when Tobirama ruffled his hair and immediately began babbling in stunted sentences to the others at the table. Madara was honestly shocked that all of them were still sitting in the same spot. What kind of jutsu could _do_ that? Had their bottoms been glued to their seats?

Now with both hands free to work further miracles, Tobirama turned back to the fridge and pulled it open, grimacing at the contents before assuming a determined expression and reaching inside. Madara wasn’t truly sure what happened after that. It was like watching a controlled whirlwind wearing a white and red apron. He felt as though only moments had passed before suddenly he was staring at a healthy, delicious looking lunch separated on to four plates and being consumed by four not-shrieking children. Discreetly, he brought his hands together in a familiar sign and attempted to dispel any possible illusions. His Sharingan would have been able to see through it but he hadn’t _activated_ his Sharingan so it was worth the try. When he opened his eyes, however, the scene was just as calm and organized and – when had Tobirama had time to clean the kitchen? Hadn’t he been cooking?

Quietly walking out of the room and back in again changed nothing about the scene before him but it did catch Tobirama’s attention. Madara very quickly found himself also perched upon a chair with a plate of food and a pair of chopsticks. Since when did he follow the orders of Senju Tobirama so easily? He gave some thought to protesting but the food _did_ smell delicious so he figured he might as well take advantage of what was being offered. If the younger man wanted to do all the work for him then Madara saw no problem with letting him.

It had absolutely nothing to do with how incredibly grateful he was to see order restored to his home nor how awed he was at the efficiency with which Tobirama had restored it.

And it _certainly_ had nothing to do with that cute little apron tied around the other man’s hips. Was that his? Did he own an apron?

Eating gave him something to do other than listening to his own traitorous thoughts. Madara scowled at his chopsticks as though it was somehow their fault his meal was absolutely delicious and tried to convince himself that was offensive in some way. He could hear his guest still moving around the room doing something or other but refused to look up. It felt almost akin to admitting defeat although what he was admitting defeat over he wasn’t sure.

Keeping his head down, however, ensured he didn’t see the papers coming until they fluttered down on to the table next to his plate, giving him no time to cover the startled full-body twitch he gave at the unexpected movement in his peripherals. Before he’d even raised his head he knew he would find a smirk on Tobirama’s face as the other man found amusement in having been able to sneak up on him, the wretch.

“You need to sign these,” the younger man said, removing his apron and casually draping it over his host’s shoulder. When Madara did nothing but blink slowly he rolled his eyes. “I did come here with a purpose, Uchiha. These need to be completed today and all they need is your signature.”

“Hmph. Give them here then.” Without waiting for an answer Madara pulled the documents closer, accepting the pen Tobirama dangled in front of him with an extra huff. He made sure to glance over them all before putting his name down on anything but even so it still only took a few minutes before he was shuffling them back in to a neat pile and holding them out. “That’s all of them?”

“For now. The reports for the Nara’s medicinal imports should be delivered by tomorrow and either you or Hashirama will need to go over them to determine how much of the budget will be assisted by the village coffers.”

Madara groaned. That sounded more than boring but he knew very well that if he let Hashirama attempt to read it the idiot would fall asleep from boredom and drool all over the parchment. Sometimes even he questioned his taste in friends.

“Fine,” he said shortly. Tobirama plucked the papers from his grasp delicately, rifling through them to make sure everything had been signed that needed to be before nodding in satisfaction.

“Right then. I’ll be going.”

“What?” Madara looked around, a slight edge of panic returning to him. “But…”

“I think you can manage from here, yes?”

“Don’t smirk at me like that you pompous puff ball! What am I supposed to do if they get all hyper again? What the hell did you do, drug them? Wait! Where are you going!?”

Tobirama gave him no answer but the sound of laughter drifting over his shoulder as he left the kitchen. With a wary look at the children, nearly finished their meals, Madara flung himself out of his seat and hurried to follow the other man. He caught up to him at the front door but before either of them could speak it opened on its own, Izuna stepping inside with a small bundle held carefully in one arm.

“Oh, er, hello.” Izuna looked between the two of them, his eyebrows slowly rising up when he spotted the red material still draped over Madara’s shoulder. When his brother scowled and shook his head the younger only smiled widely and turned his bundle towards Tobirama. “Were you looking for someone, perhaps?”

Kagami, despite being only a few months old, appeared to have an excellent sense of timing. The moment he was visible he stretched his tiny little arms out and gave an adorable yawn, fists clenching as though searching for something to hold. Tobirama was charmed in an instant, slipping one of his fingers in to Kagami’s and gently wiggling his hand side to side.

“Hello little one. Where have you been?”

“Well he hardly lives here.” Madara crossed his arms, desperately trying to tear his eyes away from the sudden soft look on Tobirama’s face. The man had absolutely no business making cooing noises for the baby. “He goes _home_. To his _parents_.”

“They’re off on another mission,” Izuna explained. “They left him with Madara for the day again. I took him to the park for a…a walk.”

“You took him to the park because you hoped some woman would see you with a child and swoon all over you,” Madara growled. His brother flushed and spluttered, attempting to deny the accusation but not really coming up with anything coherent.

Between them, Tobirama ignored both of the other men’s antics. Kagami had opened his eyes and started gurgling, pulling at the finger in his grasp and trying to suckle on the tip. It was plain to see he held the Senju’s heart as easily as he held his hand from the way Tobirama leaned in closer, seeming to forget who was holding him. While he and Izuna had long since gotten over their violent animosity there was certainly no love lost between them; they would never be great friends the way their siblings were. Certainly without the distraction of a baby neither of them would have willingly put themselves so far in to the other’s personal space.

The spell was broken by a loud round of giggles coming out of the kitchen, causing Tobirama to look up and realize that the other two were simply standing there watching him play with the baby. He cleared his throat and gently retracted his hand, reluctance obvious in his expression.

“I should be on my way.” As he returned his gaze to Madara he raised one eyebrow mockingly. “Stock your kitchen better, Uchiha, or I’ll stock it for you.”

With that he was out the door. Madara wasn’t sure if that was a threat or an offer but either way any reply he might have made was caught in his throat. He couldn’t seem to get the image out of his head of Tobirama standing over his stove with his sleeves rolled up and it rendered him dumb as he watched the door swing shut behind the retreating Senju.

Then he noticed the way Izuna was smirking at him.

“What?” he demanded.

“I leave for one hour and you’ve got Tobirama in the house when I come back. Suspicious, brother. Very suspicious.”

“He was here for work!”

“Mhm.” Izuna winked, scooting by and carrying Kagami towards the spare bedroom to put him down for a nap. “For work; of _course_. That’s why he was making comments about your kitchen?”

“You know, you don’t live here any more than that brat in your arms, Izuna. Maybe it’s time you go home too.” Madara stomped after his sibling, making sure he tucked the baby in properly while trying to seem like he wasn’t concerned. He wasn’t going soft, he was just being cautious. Responsible. That’s what a good clan head does, after all.

All Izuna did was laugh. “Why? Want me to take the kids too so your boyfriend can come back for a little alone time?”

“ _He is not my boyfriend_!” Madara snarled.

He opened his mouth to let his sibling know exactly what he thought of _that_ ridiculous idea – then he was cut off as Chiko came hurtling in to the bedroom with a loud squeal, scaring little Kagami. When the baby began to cry so did Chiko, attracting the attention of the three others left in the kitchen. Suddenly Madara found himself once more surrounded by five little terrors, two of them crying while the other three asked incessant questions, and a younger brother who couldn’t seem to stop laughing at it all.

In the face of the reemerging chaos he’d almost thought himself free of for the day, all Madara could think was that he missed Tobirama already.


	3. Chapter 3

How many spices did one kitchen need, exactly? Alone in the house – by some kami-sent miracle – Madara stood in his kitchen staring suspiciously at the new addition tucked neatly in one corner of the countertop. Tobirama, when he dropped it off, had called it a spice rack and told him that every house should have one. Honestly Madara hadn’t even known there were this many different types of seasonings. Surely some of these were made up? Tobirama had to be playing some sort of practical joke here because they couldn’t all be real.

Each jar was labelled in tidy writing and Madara spun the rack to read them all, trying to see if there was anything he’d even heard of before. ‘Bay leaves’ struck him as odd because who the hell would want to put raw leaves in their food? What possible purpose could that have? Unless it was a salad being served, leaves generally belonged outside on the trees.

And that wasn’t even the weirdest one! What in the seven hells was ‘allspice’? Was it supposed to be a small bit of every other spice all put together? If that was the case it seemed rather stupid to have the rest of them all in separate containers as well. It would be so much simpler to just use this ‘allspice’ on everything since it seemed like it would cover the needs of every dish. If it had everything in it then it would work for every kind of food, as far as he could figure. And if it didn’t then what was the point of it?

Setting the allspice back in its slot, Madara was relieved to come across thyme and nutmeg just below it. He had at least heard of those two, although their exact usage escaped him. Feared across many nations’ battlefields he might be but Madara’s skills in the kitchen extended very little past boiling water and buttering toast. Usually he fed himself on poorly chopped fruits and vegetables, perhaps whatever half-cooked dishes his younger sibling brought over for him. His palette wasn’t exactly the most refined so he’d been getting along just fine with how things were until now. Now that he had a rack of mystery substances disguised as seasonings, that is.

‘Cloves’ had him scrunching his face in confusion. Wasn’t that a lucky plant? He’d thought it was supposed to be green with four leaves but whoever gathered this must have done it wrong because it appeared they only kept the stems, all brown and hard and none longer than his fingernails. Curious, he slipped the small cylinder out of its slot and twisted the cap off, bringing it up to his nose. The sweet, earthy scent which greeted him was a pleasant surprise despite being a little overpowering.

Madara twisted the rack again, eyeing the collection suspiciously. Now that he’d smelled one he was more curious than ever about the rest. Obviously he had to start with the ‘allspice’. The smell of it, though, only made him more confused. It was like pepper and cinnamon and wet paper – very much like every spice put together as he’d thought. So it really should be for everything!

There were four separate kinds of pepper when he looked for it and Madara sniffed each of them in turn, wondering why it was necessary to have so many. The ‘lemongrass’ was pleasant, although he questioned the intelligence of anyone who put grass in their food. That seemed as strange as the leaves from before.

It was while he was putting the weird lemony grass back that his eyes caught on the little tin sitting next to the rack with a label which read ‘turmeric’. Tobirama had dropped it off with the rest but it was bigger than any of the other containers, unable to fit in to the rack, and Madara figured that meant it must be used more often. He’d never heard of ‘turmeric’ before. When he opened the tin he was a little put off by the violent yellow color of it. It didn’t look very pleasant at all and the smell was _horrid_. The only thing which came to mind was poison and burnt tree bark.

But it had to taste good, he reasoned, since it was obviously meant to be used so often that there was more than twice as much of this as any other spice. Without giving the matter much thought Madara grabbed a spoon from the cutlery drawer and filled it from the tin.

The moment he stuck the spoon in his mouth he regretted every single life choice which had brought him here to this moment. It _was_ poison. It was _disgusting_. His eyes immediately began to water and when he coughed, sputtering out a large cloud of yellow powder, that certainly didn’t help to stop the tears. His mouth was burning from the awful taste and panic set in immediately. He needed to get this out of his mouth – now!

Madara did the only thing he could think of. He went to Hashirama.

Hashirama startled a little when his friend body flickered in to the Hokage’s office, dropping his ink brush and clutching a hand to his chest.

“You scared me!” he exclaimed. “Don’t just – hey, what’s wrong?”

“Hashirama I’m dying!”

“Uh, what?”

“I’ve been poisoned!”

“ _What?_ ”

Madara clawed at his tongue with his gloved fingers, trying to scrub the powder off but only managing to add the taste of leather to the already disgusting mix. Hashirama tilted his head to the side, his eyes running up and down Madara’s figure, then he very carefully pushed the teacup at his elbow across the desk.

“I see. Why don’t you take a drink?”

“I don’t want your half-drunk tea,” Madara growled even as his hands shot out and snagged the cup. He downed the contents in two large gulps, gasping and hacking because the turmeric in his mouth destroyed what should have been a delicious oolong. Hashirama calmly reached for the teapot still sitting on its tray and held it up in a wordless offer of a second cup.

With a heavy frown, Madara stuck his arms out in grumpy acceptance. With most of the powder gone now, he was able to taste the fruity flavor of the oolong, Hashirama’s favorite kind. He usually disliked how sweet it was, preferring the earthy flavors of black tea instead, but anything was better than what was in his mouth right now so he swallowed it down with gusto and held his arms out once more for another refill. This one he sipped slowly, sloshing the liquid around in his mouth in search of any remaining pockets of powder which might not have been washed away.

Hashirama watched him with a shamelessly curious expression, eyes wide and mouth smiling while his hand blindly groped for the ink brush he had dropped.

“What were you doing eating raw turmeric?” he asked. Madara gaped, cup pausing just at the edge of his lips.

“Who said I was eating…whatever you just said?”

Instead of answer, Hashirama waved his brush at Madara’s form, making him look down and wince slightly as he caught sight of himself. His front was absolutely coated in patches of virulent yellow powder, clinging to his clothes even after he lowered one hand to beat at the dark purple cotton. Only after he’d given up did he notice that his fingers were also stained yellow. He let out a frustrated growl. Then he increased the volume when Hashirama giggled.

 “Shut up,” he snarled. “How do I get this shit off of me?”

“You don’t,” Hashirama laughed.

“Don’t clam up on me now you useless fool. You blather on about nothing all day; well you can blather on and tell me how to get this off my skin!” Madara shook his free hand wildly in his friend’s direction and took an angry sip of tea using the other.

“I don’t know, Madara. Turmeric stains last _forever_. Mito won’t let me cook anything with turmeric in it anymore because I always get it everywhere.”

“Useless.”

Though he could tell that it was a pointless endeavor, Madara absently brushed at his clothing again. All it did was spread the stain in a couple places and deepen his scowl but the effort was there, at least.

He wasn’t at all prepared for the office door to swing open without warning or for Tobirama to step through and freeze in place at the sight of him. For a few moments no one moved, Tobirama’s eyes slowly dragging down his body and back up to take in the horrible state he had made of himself. The younger man tilted his head ever so slightly to one side and narrowed his eyes contemplatively. Madara gripped his tea cup tighter, wondering if it would provide enough distraction for him to get away if he threw it at the other’s head.

“Hey, Tobi might know!” Hashirama piped up from behind the desk and shattering the silence in a too-cheerful tone. “How do you get turmeric stains out of skin?”

“Don’t call me that,” Tobirama mumbled reflexively. Then slowly he raised a single eyebrow. “Madara…were you playing with the spices I left for you?”

“No!”

“Hm. Did you by any chance try to eat some of them?”

“ _No!_ ”

Tobirama hummed again and crossed his arms, a hint of a smirk beginning to form. Madara cringed but refused to admit that he had been doing exactly what he was accused of. It wasn’t _his_ fault he didn’t know what those things were! Who had time to learn anything about cooking when one was tasked with running an entire clan?

He’d already come up with three different excuses for why there was yellow powder all down his front when Tobirama gave a small sigh and shook his head.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said.

“I’m not a child!” Despite his words, Madara offered no fight when Tobirama took his arm. Hashirama gave them a happy wave and then suddenly he found himself back inside his home just as quickly as he had left it, following dazedly along as he was led down the hall towards his bedroom.

“Alright,” Tobirama said as he lightly pushed Madara towards his en suite and taking the tea cup still clasped in his fingers. “Strip.”

“ _What!?_ ”

“Your clothing, you imbecile. You’re absolutely covered in what you would have me believe is something entirely unrelated to the spices I delivered this morning and if you want to clean yourself properly then you’d do well to get out of those clothes.” His hand was strangely gentle as he gave Madara one last push towards the bathroom. “Go shower.”

Flustered, Madara stumbled inside and only narrowly avoided having the door smack him on the bottom when it was swung closed behind him. He spent a few moments simply standing there, wondering when the world had stopped being afraid of him. There had been a time when Tobirama would have immediately raised his hackles upon spotted him, when shinobi and civilians alike had cowered before him. Even his own clan members had stepped carefully when he was present. It was beyond him how his life had changed so much in just the few short years since the village had been built.

He couldn’t deny that a shower would be a smart idea, though. Madara grumbled as he undressed, keeping one suspicious eye on the door until he was thoroughly distracted when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. A thick ring of bright yellow had stained his skin all the way around his mouth and turned his lips a disturbing color reminiscent of vomit. It was incredibly embarrassing to realize he’d been speaking with Tobirama face to face looking like _this_. Things like this were probably why it seemed as though no one feared him anymore.

With a resigned huff he turned away from the mirror to hop behind the shower curtain – and only just barely contained a high-pitched squeal when the water turned on ice cold at first. Barely a few minutes had passed, just enough time for the water to heat up, when the door opened and Madara turned bright red, hands automatically moving to cover himself even though he was safely hidden from view.

“What do you think you’re doing? Get out!” he shouted. “Do you have no propriety?” A low chuckle answered him.

“It’s not as though I can see you,” Tobirama’s disembodied voice pointed out. “Besides, I was only bringing you something that should help get the turmeric out. There’s some clean clothes for you here as well; I hope you don’t mind that I grabbed them from your room.”

“Just leave! I’m _naked_ you barbarian! I don’t want you here!”

Another chuckle drifted through the steam as Tobirama took his leave. Madara waited for the click of the door closing, then waited another minute just to be sure, straining his ears to listen for the sounds of his guest retreating down the hall to be certain that he was alone once more. Only then did he peek around the curtain to see what the other man had brought that he claimed might help.

On the corner of the sink closest to him there rested a small bundle of clothing, obviously his by the coloring and the Uchiwa fan he could see within one of the folds. His mind skittered uneasily away from the idea of Tobirama rooting through his drawers to fetch him clean clothing (he had _touched_ Madara’s _underwear_ ) and instead he forced himself to focus on the gift placed on top of his clothes. The small bar was a light brown color, obviously soap, and when Madara reached out for it and brought it to his nose he noted that it smelled pleasantly of sandalwood.

Also that it smelled of Tobirama and had obviously been used a few times already. He was holding Tobirama’s soap. This bar of soap in his hands had touched another man’s naked body.

Suddenly it seemed a lot hotter in the room than it had a minute ago, though he couldn’t remember turning up the heat of the water again.

The rest of his shower was completed in a meditative state. Madara dug deep in to his memories to remember all he had been taught about meditation and used that knowledge to detach himself, scrubbing at his skin in a perfunctory manner until he had covered every inch of himself in a scent that he didn’t want to admit was more familiar than it should have been. When he set the soap aside his skin was a light pink from head to toe, glowing softly in the light as he turned off the water and stepped out of the tub.

A quick swipe of his hand across the mirror revealed that Tobirama had been correct: the soap did help. His face was still colored with a splotch of yellow surrounding his mouth but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been before. Hopefully the rest of it would fade quickly. The tips of his fingers were in a similar state when he checked them, the yellow quite obvious on his pale skin.  Before he could stop the thought he found himself wondering how much more obvious it would look on Tobirama, whose skin was even paler than his own.

Madara scowled, snatching up a towel from the rack to his left. Stupid Senju, invading his every thought for no reason, barging in to his house and bringing him stupid gifts. He could have found some sandalwood soap on his own!

When he stormed out of the bathroom at last Madara was wearing clean clothing and a grumpy expression. The light in the kitchen drew him in like a moth to a flame, guiding him towards his unwanted guest so he could give the younger man what for. There was no need, as far as Madara could see, for him to keep showing up and sticking his nose in to other people’s business. And it was about time someone told him that!

Unfortunately, his quickly prepared speech fell to the wayside the moment he stepped in to the kitchen. Tobirama turned to look at him over one shoulder, just enough that he could see the man was once again wearing that red and white apron.

“Good timing. Food’s done.”

Blinking rapidly, drained of irritation as quickly as it had gathered, Madara let himself be directed to a seat at the table. His thoughts were strangely empty of anything but the way Tobirama had rolled up his sleeves to expose his forearms, miles of pale skin dangled right in front of his face as the other set a heaping plate down before him.

“ _This_ is what you were supposed to do with the spices, you great buffoon.” In direct contrast with his teasing words, Tobirama’s hand brushed the base of Madara’s neck as he passed him by to go back to the stove. Madara jerked, craning his head from side to side as though he could see the spot which had been touched and determine if it had been deliberate or not.

“I never said you had to cook for me,” he grumbled petulantly.

“Someone has to show you what real food is supposed to look like,” Tobirama replied serenely. “Might as well be me.”

The younger man settled himself at the table across from his begrudging host, digging in to his own plate of food. Madara sat still and watching him for a moment, trying to figure out how he had ended up here. It seemed as though every time he saw Tobirama lately the other somehow managed to turn his entire world upside with very little to no effort. And worse: he appeared to have no idea that he was doing so.

Finally Madara sighed and reached for his chopsticks. He’d already forfeit any dignity he might have had today, possibly around the same time he had nearly choked to death on a mouthful of foreign spice. He might as well give in at this point.

Across the table, demurely eating his own plate of dinner, Tobirama smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

“You stop that.”

Although Madara had used his firmest tone, one with which he could control entire battlefields, Kagami did not listen. The infant cradled in his arms continued to fuss and cry as though he hadn’t even spoken. Rather rude, in his opinion.

Kagami’s parents had left two days ago, entrusting him to care for their child while they travelled to the other side of Fire Country to visit some relative or other who…who…alright so Madara hadn’t listened too closely to the reason behind their journey. They’d been gone two days and would be gone for several more and that was all he’d paid attention to. Had he not known that the region they were travelling to was currently too dangerous because of clan infighting he would have tried to convince them to take the baby along for the trip. Unfortunately he’d had a spontaneous rash of goodwill and agreed to watch him while they were gone, something he was currently regretting.

He was starting to suspect that Kagami was more aware than any six month old child had any right to be. If there were someone else around he was as calm as one could ever hope for yet each time Madara was left alone with him he began to cry. Did he already hate his clan Head so much? What had Madara even done to him yet that could warrant such dislike?

More worrisome than a possible distaste for his current caretaker, Kagami’s coloring was what was causing Madara concern today. As a true-blooded Uchiha his skin should have been a lovely light shade of ivory, with that translucent glow which romance novels the world over lauded as “creamy” and “milky” and all other sorts of disturbingly food related adjectives. He had indeed been the correct color when they both woke up that morning. Now, however, he was flushed a light pink across his face and his nose had begun to run. Madara had given some thought to plugging his nostrils with tissue so he wouldn’t have to keep wiping up the disgusting mess but worried that it would stop him from breathing.

“You’re the wrong color,” he informed Kagami, trying to sound at least marginally calmer than he really felt. “I don’t like it.”

There were quite a few things he didn’t like about this and, though he’d been trying to deal with the situation on his own for a few hours now, it felt as though things were quickly spiraling out of his ability to control. The screaming he could deal with. He knew how to fix that now: if all else failed, he could just go find another adult and leave Kagami with them for a bit. That usually seemed to work. It was a conspiracy, he would swear. The runny nose he had reluctantly learned to live with by carrying a pocketful of tissues and cringing with each wipe. The diarrhea and occasional vomiting, on the other hand, he wasn’t sure what to do with.

With great reluctance and a lot of loud complaining, Madara had grown used to changing an infant’s diaper. It was disgusting but he could hardly leave little Kagami to stew in his own excrement. This, though…this was an entirely different level. The frequency! The consistency! The _smell_! His panic levels only rose when the vomiting began.

It took until three hours past lunch for Madara to give in. He needed help. Izuna was away on a mission and it was becoming clear that whatever was wrong with Kagami – and something obviously was wrong – it was not something he knew how to fix. He’d only waited so long for the fear that he would be told this was all somehow his fault. He very much did not want Kagami’s parents to come home only to find out he had broken their child while they’d been gone.

Could a clan Head be impeached for accidental breakage of a child? He’d have to look that up in the annals.

Since the first step to recovery is admitting you need help, Madara figured he had already given in and he might as well leap with both feet. If he wanted someone to help him then he should go to an _expert_. He should go to someone with childcare experience whom he could be certain would know what they were doing. He should go to Tobirama.

Kagami did nothing but fuss and dribble out a little more snot when Madara balanced him on his lap and raised both hands, forming a few shorts seals before pressing one down on to the couch cushions next to him. A puff of smoke formed under his fingers and when he lifted his hand it was to see a young cat in the same spot he had just touched. The gray tabby stretched, jaws opening in a wide yawn.

“Mrow! Madara-sama called. What could he want? Mrow!”

“Asami,” he greeted his summon. “I need you to go to Tobirama and tell him I need him. Life or death. Very important.”

“What Madara-sama asks, so shall I do. Mrow!” Being a cat, Asami made sure to casually lick her paw a few times before deigning to rise and doing as she’d said she would. She leapt on to the back of the couch and bounded out the open window, heading off in the direction of the Senju compound.

Alone once more, Madara wriggled his arms underneath Kagami and lifted the boy to his chest, trying to imitate the pleasant tune he’d heard Tobirama singing for Kagami when the two of them had first met. He hadn’t attempted to sing so much as a single note since he was a child trying to calm Izuna with a lullaby. Now as an adult he suddenly understood why his little brother had only cried louder: his voice was the exact opposite of calming. When he tried to hum it sounded more like a weasel gasping out its dying breaths in an accusatory manner. It was little wonder when Kagami began to fuss louder.

He had less than five minutes to wait before his front door was thrown open and a familiar figure burst in, expression tight and weapon at the ready. He looked prepared for war until he spotted the two poor figures in the corner of the room. Madara and Tobirama blinked at each with equal amounts of surprise, Kagami’s wails the only thing filling the silence of the house.

“Uhm…” Madara murmured intelligently. Tobirama glared at him.

“Your summon came to fetch me. Said it was ‘life or death’. I see no death happening here, Uchiha.”

With the rising panic still swirling around in his chest, Madara stood from the couch and lifted the crying child in his arms a little higher. “Not yet!” he wailed. “He could be _dying_ , Senju! What did I do? Why is he red? How do I fix him!?”

“Calm down,” Tobirama told him, automatically slipping in to a soothing tone as he sheathed his kunai. “Go back to the start. What’s wrong?” Madara took a breath, trying to calm himself as ordered. It didn’t work.

“He won’t stop crying again. And he’s all red. And his nose runs and his shit runs and his _vomit_ runs. He’s just…runny! From everywhere! Did I do something wrong?” His eyes widened, composure slipping again. “I can’t kill a baby, Tobirama, especially not an Uchiha baby!”

“Alright, it’s okay. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. Let me see him.”  

Tobirama’s hands brushed his own as he took the baby from Madara, who could feel a tiny edge of the desired calm settling down around him at the touch. He watched as the younger man inspected little Kagami, pressing the back of one hand against his forehead and looking just a little too closely at his snot for Madara to be comfortable.

“Do you have a thermometer?” he asked eventually.

“Yes!” Madara leapt up from the couch and dashed down the hallway, glad to be of some use at last. He’d spent half the day feeling utterly useless until now. When he returned and handed the thermometer over Tobirama gave it a quick look before nodding in approval.

“Good. Not a rectal thermometer.”

“You want to put what where?”

“A lot of parents get rectal thermometers for children this young, since they can’t stay still long enough to hold it under their tongue and it’s hard to mess up taking an internal temperature. Personally I’m just as glad to use other methods.”

Madara twisted his mouth to one side. What two consenting adults did in their spare time was one thing – one thing he would admit to having partaken in himself. But sticking something up an infant’s ass before they could even understand what was happening struck him as weird. And gross. And _weird_. Did people really do that when their poor child was sick and miserable already? As Tobirama had said, he too was glad that there were other methods for that sort of thing.

Curiously, he watched his guest place the thermometer under Kagami’s armpit and gently hold one tiny arm down while he waited for a result. Kagami wailed and squirmed, making snot dribbling down one side of his face, so Madara fished a clean tissue out of his pocket to wipe it away with. He frowned defensively when Tobirama gave him an indecipherable look for doing so.

“What?” he demanded.

“Nothing.” Tobirama shrugged one shoulder innocently before finally checking the thermometer reading. “Hm. It’s a little high but nothing to really panic about yet. You said he’s been experiencing vomiting and diarrhea? From what I can tell, it looks like our little man here has the flu.”

Relief flooded through Madara’s system for a brief moment. “Oh. Just the flu. He’s not dying.” Then it drained away just as quickly when Tobirama made as though to hand the child back to him. “What? No! You have to stay and help me! I don’t know what to do with a kid that has the flu!”

“Just keep him hydrated and cool, let him rest if he wants to.”

“Please?”

Tobirama’s brows drew down, not in a true frown but more of a look of contemplation. Madara made a passing attempt at the pathetic puppy eyes Hashirama always seemed to get his way with. He wasn’t sure if he truly succeeded or if the other man simply decided to take pity on him but in the end it didn’t matter. He nearly fell over with gratitude when Tobirama sighed gently.

“Fine. When was the last time he had a bottle?”

“I think about four hours ago.”

“Let’s try and give him another bottle. It’s important for him to stay hydrated. That’s basic sick care, Madara, the same as you would do for yourself.” The younger man gave him a slightly reproving look as though to ask how he didn’t think of that. Madara coughed and looked away.

“Uh-huh. Same as I would do for myself.”

Of course, there was absolutely no way he would admit that he hadn’t even known _that_. He didn’t get sick very often and when he did he tended to ignore it and try to push through until his body forced him in to bed rest. Usually Izuna watched on with a shaking head and resigned expression, which Madara had never understood until now. Evidently there were actually methods he could have been using to try and help himself feel better. Interesting.

Kagami took his bottle with an enthusiasm that made Madara feel a little guilty. The poor thing actually took a break from crying to clamp his toothless gums around the nipple and suck it back like he’d been dying of thirst. He’d certainly cried enough tears today to work his way towards dehydration, something Madara also hadn’t thought of.

He worried when Tobirama sat him down on the couch and set the baby in his lap.

“You’re not leaving are you?” he asked. His guest shook his head.

“Don’t panic, I’m just running him a bath. It’ll help him cool down a bit and the water should help soothe him.”

Bath time, though it sounded simple as a concept, was a very small disaster. Before he could even be put in the water Kagami vomited. They cleaned him up and threw his soiled onesie in to the laundry with the others after rinsing it off then headed for the bath again. Then as soon as he was set in the water he peed and Madara had to hold him as Tobirama emptied the sink and filled it again. On a normal day Kagami loved bath time, always cooing and trying to hold the water in his teeny fists. Today he thrashed his arms and splashed both of the men trying to care for him, soaking their fronts. He wasn’t quite screaming as he had been but he still fussed and whined where he would otherwise had smiled, obviously uncomfortable in his own body.

Although Madara usually let him play in the water for a while, to keep him quiet if nothing else, they ended bath time as soon as he was reasonably clean. Tobirama drained the sink and put away everything they had used for the bath while Madara wrapped Kagami up in a fresh diaper. He was just reaching for some clean jammies when Tobirama peeked over his shoulder.

“I know today must have been frustrating for you but you shouldn’t really take it out on the kid, you know?”

“What are you talking about?” Madara scowled at the face hovering over his shoulder. “I didn’t do anything!”

“You’ve swaddled him so tight it’s a miracle he can still move.”

“Well you do it then!”

He stumbled a bit when Tobirama hip-checked him out of the way, grumbling and shuffling closer again so he could watch how the other man did it. There was nothing wrong with how he put on a diaper. Nothing! They were _supposed_ to be tight or else they’d fall off! Even Izuna had agreed with him on that point.

Watching Tobirama was like watching something entirely different. The man’s fingers were quick and deft, flicking through each movement with ease and confidence as though he did this every day. Madara huffed and turned away to go find himself a dry shirt to wear. It wasn’t that impressive. Of course it wasn’t. Why should he care about the way he could tell even just from watching how gentle Tobirama’s touch had been? He shouldn’t. He didn’t.

Annoyed with himself, Madara made sure to offer Tobirama a dry shirt as well by throwing it at his head. Oddly, his attempt at violence didn’t garner more reaction than a poorly hidden smirk and a quiet ‘thank you’. He huffed again and didn’t reply.

Dinner, when the time came, consisted of simple sandwiches that Madara threw together while Tobirama rocked the baby and dealt with another bout of diarrhea. They both ate in the living room, taking turns cooing for little Kagami and trying to distract him even a little bit from the discomfort that his body barely understood how to deal with. While he did stop screaming his head off endlessly, he continued to fuss and squirm and have frequent bouts of piteous wailing.

The rest of the evening passed in a similar way. The two men shared the task of holding Kagami in their arms and doing what they could to soothe him or keep his nose and diaper clean. Each time Tobirama left the room Kagami wailed and Madara despaired that this child would ever accept him as a capable, likable human being.

When Tobirama finally had a moment to change his clothing and don the shirt he had so graciously been given, Madara nearly had a heart attack at the sight of him. He reasoned that it would be a shock to anyone in his position, seeing someone else wear his clothing for the first time. It was just strange, that was all. The weirdly breathless feeling in his chest must mean that he was also coming down with whatever sickness Kagami had picked up. Luckily for him, Tobirama didn’t seem to notice the effect he had on his host. The younger man sat down by his side and took the baby from him without a single word about the strangely rapturous expression on his face. Madara used the silence to take a few deep breaths and try to calm his wildly racing heart.

Night fell quickly but still Kagami was wide awake. His temperature hadn’t fallen, though it also hadn’t risen yet. Madara had changed his shirt again when the little fiend vomited down his front only moments before he’d tried to offer him a bottle. Tobirama had laughed, the traitor.

They took turns staying up over the next few hours. Kagami slept in short bouts, only to wake up crying and thrashing after less than half an hour each time. By the time he finally fell in to a restful sleep and _stayed_ asleep it was five in the morning and both of his caretakers were absolutely exhausted. Madara stood in the doorway and stared at the crib in wonder after forty-five minutes had gone by without the child waking up. He gave some thought to checking for hallucinations but, in his tiredness, decided he didn’t care. If he was hallucinating then he might as well enjoy the quiet and the chance to rest.

After making sure that Kagami was tucked in just the way Tobirama had shown him, Madara shuffled slowly across to his own bedroom. He was at the edge of his bed with one hand reaching out for the covers when he stopped with a frown. Tobirama was spread out across the top of the covers, evidently too tired to even find his way underneath the blanket. He lay face down as if he had collapsed there, head buried in one of the pillows and both arms spread out in either direction.

“Hey,” Madara grumbled tiredly. When he got no response he tried again. “Oi, Senju.”

He poked at the hand closest to him. It twitched and Tobirama groaned but gave no other answer.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. Obviously. Hush.”

“You can’t – that’s _my_ bed.” Madara’s petulant frown went unseen as Tobirama couldn’t even be bothered to shrug apologetically.

“Shhh. Sleeping. Tired.”

“Well where am I supposed to sleep?” If he had one ounce less of self-control, Madara would have stamped his foot. “I want to sleep in my bed.”

Tobirama grunted and slowly retracted one arm. At first Madara thought he meant to get up and could hardly believe that it had been so easy. Then he watched with disbelief as the younger man simply tucked his arm under the pillow he was face-down in, snuffling quietly as he resettled himself. When he went still again Madara understood what had been offered.

He was too tired to even process it.

The bedsprings bounced as he flopped down on to the mattress with little grace, curling on to one side. He didn’t have the energy to care whether or not his head was on the pillow or to check that he wasn’t crowding the other man. He didn’t even have the mental faculties to care that there was another man sharing his bed; it barely even registered. All he cared about was the sweet bliss of closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift in to a well-earned slumber.

Dawn crept up on them mere hours later, although no one in the house stirred quite yet. Had there been anyone there to bear witness they would have seen the first light of day passing across matching smiles worn by both Madara and Tobirama as they dreamed sweet dreams that were suspiciously similar.


	5. Chapter 5

Madara was not proud of the noise he made upon waking up the next morning. He wasn’t exactly ashamed of it, per se, but he definitely could not be said to be proud. Although, he thought it was a rather reasonable reaction and that anyone else would likely do the same upon discovering that they had spent the night in bed with Senju Tobirama – and that at some point during that night both himself and Tobirama had drifted towards each other and were now cuddled up together like a sweet old married couple.

He wasn’t panicking, honest.

Staying still was harder than it should have been for a trained shinobi yet Madara felt that it was absolutely necessary. If he moved then he might disturb the younger man. And if he disturbed him then he would stop making the most adorable snuffling sounds Madara had ever heard in his life.

Tobirama mewled in his sleep, burrowing his face deeper in to the chest he seemed to think was his pillow. They were both lying on their sides facing each other yet somehow Madara had ended up with his head on the actual pillows and Tobirama had slid nearly halfway down the bed. He wasn’t so much tucked under the older man’s chin as he was curled around him with three limbs, the fourth fisted in his shirt as his nose pressed in to Madara’s sternum. With every fourth or fifth breath he would twitch and make a tiny sound. What sound he made varied between quiet little huffs, adorable mewls, or soft snuffles as though he were trying to determine what his human pillow smelled like.

If it were possible, Madara thought his very heart might be melting inside his chest. All of him might be melting for all he knew. He wanted time to stop so he could stare forever at the way Tobirama’s cheeks were smooshed out of shape by the position he’d squirmed himself in to. His house had been overrun with children for months now and not a single one of them could come even slightly close to how cute the sight before him was right now. How was he supposed to deal with this?

No answer came to him at the moment but he did understand that no matter his personal wishes time was not going to stop. Eventually the man pressed to his chest was going to wake up and whatever scene followed after would likely involved blushing, yelling, stuttering, and flailing – probably all from himself, admittedly. Without stopping to consider the implications Madara allowed a spark of chakra to flood his eyes, activating his Sharingan and committing this moment to memory forever. He very carefully did not think about what doing such a thing implied or how it might be taken. It was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen; who wouldn’t want to remember this?

Unfortunately for the peace of the morning, two things happened simultaneously then. Even that small spike in his chakra set off Tobirama’s senses, bringing him instinctually out of sleep, and at the exact same time Kagami gave a hungry cry from the other room. Madara froze like a deer as his bedpartner cracked both eyes ever so slightly, then stared in continued awe at the wide yawn that followed after. Even his yawn was adorable. How?

“Mmmmppphhrrrrr.”

Madara blinked. “What?”

Tobirama blinked back at him with an uncomprehending expression in his half-lidded eyes. “Mm?”

“What did you-? Never mind. Can I, uh, get up?”

The younger man hummed sleepily before slowly unwinding his limbs from around Madara, freeing him but also leaving him oddly cold. Which, he reasoned, was obviously the only reason they had both ended up in such a position. Not having the energy to cover themselves with blankets the night before had left them cold and both had unconsciously sought out the closest source of heat. Mystery solved. The only plausible explanation.

Both of them rolled themselves out of the bed, Tobirama heading instinctively for the crying child while Madara watched and shook his head in bewilderment. He followed behind slowly and walked in to the spare bedroom just as Kagami stopped crying. He looked better this morning, his skin no longer so flushed and dry.

“Good morning little one,” Tobirama murmured with another wide yawn. He reached in to the crib to lift the child out and when they both cooed at the same time Madara had to turn around and step out again. He couldn’t handle them both at the same time so early in the morning.

Instead he retreated to the kitchen and went straight for the coffee pot. He was a _warrior_ , he reminded himself. He’d been bred for nothing but blood and combat since almost before he could walk. Witnessing countless deaths and grievous injuries had long since hardened him and he _would not fall to pieces because one man and one baby were more cute than he knew what to do with_.

Honestly he was starting to think this was a losing battle. Not that he was about to give in to anything.

Tobirama drifted in to the kitchen shortly after the coffee was done. In an act of grumpy defiance, Madara only made a cup for himself and didn’t even offer to pour one for his guest. He looked a little too busy to notice, though, as he entered the room with a look of confused thoughtfulness on his face and a babbling Kagami in his arms.

“Did I sleep in your bed?” he asked. Madara harrumphed and ducked his face down to stir his coffee.

“Yes,” he admitted shortly. Tobirama gave that a moment of thought, bouncing the baby on his hip. Thinking he was safe for a moment, Madara took his first sip of glorious premium brew.

“Did we _snuggle_?”

Madara choked on his first sip of glorious premium brew.

“Snuggle? Why would we-? You think-! I would never-!” Despite starting quite a few sentences, nothing of substance managed to find its way out as he spluttered and reached for a towel to wipe up the spray he’d just gotten everywhere in his shock. Tobirama tilted his head.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.

“Hmph!”

It was hard to ignore the weird smile Tobirama was giving him. Were he anyone else he would have said it looked like a fond smile but he could think of no reason for the younger man to direct such a look at someone like him. Madara scowled back as darkly as he could and stormed down the hallway to throw the coffee covered towel in the laundry. The smell of it added very little to the heap of vomit stained cloths and sheets. Whichever poor unlucky soul collected his laundry this morning was going to get a nasty surprise, he noted.

Upon returning to the kitchen he made sure to stick his nose as far in to the air as it would go and pointedly still not offer any coffee. Frustratingly, Tobirama ignored him and simply poured a cup for himself without asking. The younger man rooted through every single mug in his cupboard before finally selecting one with a pattern of little blue flowers on it, albeit with a reluctant expression. Madara wasn’t sure what was so distasteful about his mug collection but didn’t bother to ask. Even if he wanted to he wouldn’t have had time because it was right then that he noticed something he hadn’t before, something which sent him right back out of the room once again.

Tobirama was still wearing his shirt.

Madara felt his breath catching in his chest as he practically fell in to his bedroom and threw the door shut behind himself. Did the man have no decency, wandering around in other people’s clothing? Did he not have a single clue what he looked like with an Uchiwa printed across his shoulder blades? He looked as though he belonged there in Madara’s kitchen, drinking his coffee without a care in the world and rooting through the fridge for some milk to give to little Kagami.

It wasn’t fair. The day hadn’t even started yet so why did he already feel like he needed to crawl back in to bed? Madara made certain that his annoyance was audible as he changed out of yesterday’s clothes, slamming drawers and stomping his feet. Stupid Tobirama. Why was he even here?

Very carefully avoiding the thought that he was the one who had invited the younger man here in the first place and convinced him to stay, Madara grumped his way to the kitchen once more to tell him that he had overstayed his welcome and should probably leave. His plans were foiled when Tobirama smiled at him and asked if he should cook breakfast or did Madara want to try to make something.

“I can make food myself,” he said, the tips of his ears going pink.

“Of course,” Tobirama agreed graciously. Kagami cooed his own agreement as he was slid in to his highchair, bottle clutched tightly in both hands.

He tried, he really honestly did. He’d thought eggs would be simple enough even though they weren’t something he would normally make. After a minute or so he could see that something wasn’t quite right but he couldn’t put his finger on what. They just didn’t look how he thought they were supposed to, how they had the one time he’d watched Izuna cook them. Tobirama seemed to catch on that something was wrong when Madara peeked at him surreptitiously. He wanted to know what he’d done wrong but he didn’t want to _ask_. Luckily his guest was kind enough to offer.

“What’s the matter?”

“The eggs didn’t do it right.” Madara wasn’t sure why Tobirama had to bite his lip. Maybe they were sore or something.

“Here, let me see.”

He shuffled to one side to allow the younger man to stand beside him and peek in to the pot he had on the stove. Yet, instead of any comments or advice, silence greeted him. Almost a full minute went by before Tobirama slowly took a deep breath in.

“What is it you were trying to make?” he asked.

“Boiled eggs,” Madara said. “Obviously.”

“Did you….crack the eggs in to the water?”

“Of course I did! You can’t eat the shell, why would I leave them in there?” Leaning over, he peeked inside the pot for himself. “But they don’t look the same as when Izuna did it. I don’t know how he managed to get them to keep their shape.”

Madara startled when a hand landed on his wrist, his lips parting but no words coming out as he stared dumbly at the man beside him. Tobirama carefully twisted the oversized spoon out of his grasp and steered him to the side.

“Why don’t I show you? I’ll explain it as we go along.”

Ten minutes later Madara proudly presented a plate of boiled eggs to Kagami to showoff what he had managed to do _all by himself with no help thank you_. The baby giggled and poked one of them, rolling it about while Madara looked on happily. One of them got squished when Kagami got it under his fist and squeezed but that was alright, he had more to eat. Tobirama watched them both from the stove where he was dumping out the water, smiling that same strange smile he’d worn earlier.

After breakfast Tobirama took Kagami’s temperature and compared the number to what it had been last night.

“Looks like his fever broke. Good.” One hand ruffled the child’s already thick hair. “He’ll be fine. You, I have some doubts about but you’ll survive at the very least. I should get home.”

“Hmph. I’ve survived just fine for this long. I don’t _need_ fancy food like boiled eggs.”

“Fancy-?” Tobirama stopped midsentence to shake his head and chuckle. “Sure thing Madara. Don’t forget about the meeting with the representative from the Shimura clan this afternoon. I’m sure I’ll see you there.”

Before he left he bent down to buss Kagami on the cheek, eliciting wild laughter and reaching hands. He tickled one of the palms trying to catch him before sending Madara a vague wave and then flickering away as though he’d never been there. It took Kagami a bit to realize he was gone but the moment he did the sniffles started and Madara could practically see the wails building up. He sighed, trying not to focus on how he felt oddly the same way.

Surprisingly, the crying abated after a little while. Madara refused to believe that it had anything to do with him actually following some of the advice Tobirama had given him about taking care of the bitty bugger. Just because he knew how to swaddle him properly now and how to hold him the right way when carrying him from place to place meant nothing. Those kinds of things couldn’t possibly have bearing on anything. The thing was a _child_ ; he wasn’t even smart enough to notice those things yet.

“So what is it then, hm?” Despite the fact that he was being spoken to, Kagami didn’t even turn his head from where he was very seriously contemplating the color of the ceiling. “You’re just warming up to me I guess. I _am_ pretty awesome. I’m your clan Head, you know, so you should respect me.”

Kagami hiccupped but didn’t pay him much more attention than he already had been.

Both of them looked over when the front door opened. For a moment Madara thought Tobirama had forgotten something and come back for it and was already preparing some clever remark to say about it. He shrank when Izuna came in instead. His brother’s shoulders were hunched and his nose red where it peeked out from above the scarf he had wrapped tightly around his neck. The accessory choice was odd considering it was barely in to autumn. It wasn’t really cold enough for scarves yet.

“I’m dying,” Izuna slurred out. He sounded surprisingly nasally. Madara showed him no more sympathy than Hashirama had shown for him when he said the same thing.

“You look pretty alive to me. I don’t see you bleeding anywhere so what’s the problem?”

“What a cruel brother I have, to welcome me home from a mission so uncaringly.”

Madara snorted. “This isn’t your home; it’s mine. So what’s wrong with you that you need to come fishing for sympathy before you’ve even made it back to your own house?”

“I’m sick,” Izuna whined. Madara brightened.

“Oh! I know what to do for that!”

His brother glared at him for looking happy all of a sudden but Madara paid him no mind. He set the baby down in the playpen Tobirama had set up – what a good idea! – and hurried away. When he came back with a large glass of water Izuna raised one eyebrow, looking at him suspiciously before taking it with obvious reluctance in his movements.

“Okay…explain.”

“You’re sick! You have to stay hydrated!”

“Alright then.” Izuna sipped at the water, closing his eyes momentarily in relief as it cooled his throat. Then he popped them back open to ask, “Anything else, Doctor Madara?”

“Bed rest! You’re supposed to sleep a lot, apparently. At least, that’s what Tobirama said was good for Kagami but he said something about doing the same as I would for myself so I guess it applies to adults too.”

“There it is.” Izuna smirked.

Madara scrunched his nose as he checked to make sure Kagami was playing alright in his playpen.

“There what is?”

“You learned all that from Tobirama. I should have known. Should I assume he spent some time here last night?” In Madara’s opinion, there was no need for the suggestive wiggling of eyebrows that he was being faced with right then.

“What of it? He _is_ supposed to be a genius,” he pointed out. “It would be rather stupid of me not to take the opportunity to learn from someone with such a high intellect.”

Izuna howled with laughter – or tried to, anyway. He’d only just gotten started before he set off a coughing fit which nearly knocked him off his own two feet. Madara looked on feeling slightly vindicated. Even Izuna’s own body knew he shouldn’t be making fun of his elders and betters.

“The irony,” Izuna wheezed eventually. “Oh my god the irony is actually killing me.”

“See if I bring you any more water,” Madara grumbled. Just for spite, he snatched away the glass he’d brought over out of the goodness of his own heart. Not at all to show off all the new things he had learned.

“Can I be best man at your wedding? I’ll look away when you two kiss, I promise!”

“Shut up! We’re not getting married! I don’t like him! Shut up!”

“You already told me to shut up!” Izuna wheezed out another laugh, prompting Madara to throw one of the couch pillows at him.

“I hope you die of sickness!” he shouted.

He didn’t have to stand here and listen to this, especially not in his own home. Madara gathered Kagami up and retreated down the hallway but he only made it halfway before Izuna’s voice floated down after him to tickle his ears and stiffen his spine.

“I’m sure Tobirama will be only too happy to comfort you in your time of _need_!”

Although he never got around to confirming it, Madara was fairly sure they heard his bellow of rage on the other side of the village.


	6. Chapter 6

“Not. One. Word.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Good. Continue saying nothing and you shall keep your health.”

Despite the ominous words spoken in a darker tone than most would be able to stand strong in the face of, Tobirama obviously did not feel threatened in the slightest bit. He might not have said anything but he was clearly thinking something, his laughter only just barely contained to quivering shoulders and one hand held in front of his mouth. Madara huffed and whipped around dramatically, as regal as he always presented himself to be.

The motion was twice as glorious with all the clips and bows in his hair, set off quite nicely by the way his tresses had been separated and woven in to twin braids of questionable skill. One only had to look as far as the two young girls giggling in the living room to see what had happened here but one would have to dig deep down for the strength not to laugh at it all.

“Did you need something, Senju, or do you just have some sort of sixth sense for my internal suffering and came over to laugh at me in my lowest hour?” Madara made it no more than six feet away from the door before he was tackled by two little girls to be pulled back in to the nest they had made on the floor. He went down with an indignant squawk and a few reproachful mutterings.

“Perhaps a bit of both,” Tobirama admitted as he bent to pat one of the children on the head and earn himself a quick besotted smile. “Your brother stopped in to see me just to tell me what you were up to today. Unfortunately he was laughing so hard he couldn’t get a single word out. I thought that boded rather poorly for you and came to see if you needed help with anything.”

“No, everything is fine,” Madara said, words practically dripping with biting sarcasm.

“I see. Well then I’ll be on my way then.”

Shrugging as nonchalantly as possible, Tobirama turned as though to head for the door. From behind him, Madara couldn’t see the smirk he was wearing when the older man squawked again.

“Wait no!”

Tobirama turned and peeked over one shoulder to see him flailing with both arms yet unable to fend off the five-year old next to him armed with another sparkly clip. There were so many decorations wound through his head he looked like an advertisement for children’s accessories or perhaps as though a unicorn had sicked up all over him. Neither of the little boogers he was babysitting appeared to have even a single ounce of remorse for doing this to their big bad clan head.

“Did you need something then?” Tobirama asked casually. Madara steamed a little, chewing on his words like they tasted bad, then finally crossed his arms and looked away.

“Yes.”

“Some help, perhaps?”

“Hn. Fine.”

“My, my, girls. What a lovely vision he makes. You’ve done such a good job.” Madara’s head snapped around to glare at him, his dark eyes promising painful vengeance, but Tobirama ignored him as he knelt down to address the two make-over enthusiasts. “What about if you drew pictures of him? I sure would like someone to draw me a picture of Madara-sama looking so pretty.”

Just like that Madara was free of grabbing hands as the girls ran squealing for the single box of colored pencils Hashirama had given him a couple weeks ago. They had paper spread out on the spare bedroom floor before he could blink, somehow not even waking Kagami from his afternoon nap.

The two men were left alone in the living room, one sitting despondently on the floor and the other crouched down in front of him. Tobirama’s shoulders began to shake again.

“Shut up!”

“I still haven’t said anything,” the younger man pointed out.

“How do I get this all out?” Madara reached around to tug helplessly on one of them but didn’t manage to do anything more than make himself wince as it pinched his scalp. Then he flinched when Tobirama’s fingers covered his own, pulling it away.

“Sit still, I’ll get them.”

It seemed to Madara that it took nearly twice as long to take them all out as it had to get them in there. By the end he had concluded that girls were evil creatures of another species; there were _reasons_ he didn’t want to marry one, very reasonable reasons. He tried to keep as still as possible to keep the extraction process as painless as it could be, although Tobirama’s fingers were nimble enough not to pull too much except on the clips that had been twisted and snarled so hopelessly they almost required scissors to get out.

The younger man sat on the couch with Madara in seiza on the floor between his thighs. Slowly he amassed a small mountain of decorations on the couch cushion beside him, some of them still with broken strands of dark hair twisted around their shapes. The final piece to be removed was a large purple bow which had been attached to the end of one of the lopsided braids, something he made sure to comment was at least a good color for the older man. Madara’s growl still wasn’t very threatening, even with only the braids remaining.

Gently, making sure to look for any hidden clips that might have been twisted out of sight, Tobirama undid the braids as best he could. He combed his fingers through thick locks until the worst of the tangles had been worked free then patted Madara on the shoulder. Madara jumped a little, only realizing when it was broken that he had fallen in to a bit of a trance. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had paid so much attention to his hair since he was young and his mother had brushed it for him every night. The two tiny horrors down the hall didn’t count. That had been _torture_ and he hadn’t enjoyed it at all, not the way he had enjoyed Tobirama’s touch.

Which he hadn’t! Of course not! That would be inappropriate.

“Quit touching me!” he growled, ignoring the fact that Tobirama had already finished. His guest only chuckled and gave him a light shove, sending him scrambling to get up in order to avoid simply falling forward on to his knees.

“Get away from me then,” Tobirama replied lightly. His hand belied his words, lingering on Madara’s shoulder as support until the older man managed to stand at last.

“Hmph. Like I would want to be close to _you_.” Madara ran his hands through his hair, glad that it was flowing freely once more and relieved not to be covered in sparkles any longer. It was a little disappointing that his own fingers didn’t feel nearly as nice as the other’s had.

“Are you sure? We did snuggle that one time.”

“WE NEVER SNUGGLED!”

Tobirama made an exaggerated thinking face as he gathered all the hair accessories and dumped them in the bin on the coffee table. “Oh? I must be remembering it wrong then. I could have sworn I woke all snuggled up in your-”

“SHUT UP!”

“Are you sure-”

“NO! NO SNUGGLING!”

“Hm, whatever you say ‘Dara.” Upon hearing such a ridiculous diminutive of his name Madara immediately turned red and gaped like a fish, unable to continue yelling. “You don’t like me. I understand. I suppose I should just go and stop coming over to help, then. A pity. And here I was beginning to warm up to you, myself.”

The pout that showed up on Tobirama’s lip then was so sad and so overly dramatic it would have made his elder brother tear up with pride. Adding a despondent sigh for effect, he stood from the couch and shrugged his shoulder as though to say that there was nothing he could do but to leave as he had said.

Although his mouth continued to move and form the shapes of words, nothing actually came out of Madara’s mouth until Tobirama had taken a single step towards the door. Sheer panic filled him. Why was Tobirama leaving? He didn’t want him to leave! What if he never came back? He had to keep coming back because Madara still needed him! Just for help with the children though. It wasn’t that he needed Tobirama for anything else; of course not.

Whatever the source of the need, it ripped through Madara like a tidal wave and left him reeling, barely able to lurch forward and catch the man’s sleeve as he made to take another step away.

“Don’t go!” he shouted.

It felt like time was stopping in the manner he had wanted it to do several days ago, when he had awoken to find this man still asleep _not cuddling him_. Quite irritating, he thought, that time would mock him in such a manner. He watched almost in slow motion as Tobirama peeked up at him through thick white lashes, bottom lip jutting out and red eyes heartbreakingly wide.

“I…” Madara swallowed thickly, the redness from before neatly covering the blush which refreshed itself now. “You’re not…intolerable.”

“Oh, so you _do_ like me then?”

“I don’t hate you,” Madara allowed from between clenched teeth.

He was stunned to watch the pouty expression clear itself immediately, to be replaced with a brilliantly self-satisfied smirk. “I thought as much,” Tobirama announced with triumph in his voice. Madara scowled.

“You did that on purpose.” He’d been set up! The audacity of this man knew absolutely no bounds.

“Whatever gave you that impression?”

“I take it back! I hate you!”

“No you don’t.” Tobirama was still smirking as he took himself down the hall, abandoning their conversation without giving Madara a chance to refute him.

Quiet giggling drifted out to him and Madara surmised that Tobirama had gone to see what sort of evil the girls had gotten up to. Considering that the man had actually told them to draw depictions of what their clan Head had looked like all trussed up like a sparkling goose for the slaughter, Madara was fairly sure it would be better for all if he didn’t follow after. He was curious – of course he was – but even he knew better than to go looking for things that were likely to set off his temper. Sometimes.

He cleaned up the living room to while away some time, folding the blankets which had formed the nest on the floor, righting the pillows where they had been thrown about the couch willy-nilly. He gathered up the rest of the beautifying _un_ necessities today’s babysitting victims had brought along to play with and set them all up high out of reach. The hope was to put them ‘out of sight, out of mind’ and that he wouldn’t ever have to experience the same ordeal he’d just gone through ever again. Maybe their parents would forget about them too and he could burn the lot of it after they’d gone home.

So desperate was he to avoid what was happening down the hall, Madara was considering whether or not the living room could use some dusting when movement in the corner of his eye made him look round. Apparently Kagami had woken from his nap. He was giggling and waving one hand at Tobirama’s chin while the man absently stroked his belly and chatted with the two girls trotting by his heels. Madara met his eyes from across the room and felt rooted to the spot by a strange pulling sensation. It felt like he was being urged across the space between them by some unseen force, not just closer to Tobirama but closer to the contented scene he was creating framed in the doorway with a passel of children surrounding him with adoring eyes.

Whatever the feeling was it could do him no good. It wasn’t like Tobirama would keep coming over forever. Each time he came he taught Madara something new and eventually one day there would be nothing more to teach and therefore no reason for him to come. The thought was chilling, though Madara couldn’t have said why.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” he grumbled. Tobirama glanced down at the girls then back up to him.

“I’m simply reminiscing about the _lovely_ artwork these little princesses drew for me, that’s all.” The soft smile on his face took on a biting edge as he raised a single eyebrow, eyes flickering to where one of the girls was holding some suspicious looking papers. “You make quite a pretty princess yourself, ‘Dara.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“What, you don’t like nicknames? What do you think, girls? Does ‘Mada’ sound any better?”

“Mada-Dara! Mada-Dara!” One of the hellions began to dance around Tobirama’s legs, repeating the bastardized name in a sing-song voice. Madara shook one of his fists at her.

“I’ll see that you get an early bedtime tonight, Chiko!” he threatened.

She blithely ignored him, dancing farther in to the room and continuing to sing until the two names blurred together. “Mada-Dara! Mada-Dara! MadaDara! Madadara! Madada! MADADA!”

By the end of her song Tobirama had lifted the baby in his arms and buried his face among the blankets. The tips of his ears had gone red and his entire body was shaking with obvious repressed laughter. On the opposite side of the room Madara was also red but with repressed _rage_. Pure rage. No embarrassment whatsoever.

“NO SWEETS FOR A MONTH!” he screeched.

“Who’s not getting any sweets?”

Since Tobirama appeared too busy to look up it fell to Madara to check who had just walked in through the back door. Although, he didn’t really need to check. There were only two people who would be so bold as to let themselves in through the back door of his home without being invited and he’d known the owner of that voice since they was learning their first words.

Izuna appeared around the corner with a shit eating grin painted across his face, no doubt amused that his brother was yelling yet again even without knowing why. His amusement only increased when he spotted Tobirama’s mirthfully incapacitated state and he made sure to wink ostentatiously in Madara’s direction.

“Madada!” Chiko announced as though to answer his question. She was much too cheerful for a child whose imminent future contained no candy.

“I…did she just call you _Dada_?”

“NO!” Madara’s entire body fairly quivered with his inability to contain the feelings he was unable to process. “I am no one’s _Dada_!”

“Yeah that’s fair. I wouldn’t want you as my Dada. It would be cruel to sic you on one of these poor children.”

“I take umbrage to that!” His limbs were still quivering as he waved them aimlessly through the air. “I’ll have you know I would make an excellent father if I – WHAT?” Madara cut himself off halfway through his protest to yell at Tobirama, who had just let the tiniest squeak of laughter slip out.

The poor Senju’s face was red and he could hardly draw breath when he lifted himself out of Kagami’s belly, but he managed to gasp out, “Who the hell says ‘umbrage’?” Then he buried his face again as he broke down, his muffled laughter setting Kagami off in to giggles of his own. Chiko skipped over to him and continued to dance in circles around his legs while the other little girl simply stood still and held on to his pant leg.

“It’s a word!”

“An outdated one,” Izuna pointed out.

Madara gave vent to a wordless noise of frustration and quit the room, unable to handle it anymore. There was no need for him to stand there and be made fun of in such a manner in his own home! He retreated out the door Izuna had just arrived through, stomping around the perimeter of his backyard to cool his head before settling on the edge of the porch and sulking with his arms crossed. Idiots, the lot of them.

Although it took some time, eventually his temper abated as he breathed in the clean air of the early autumn afternoon, to the point where he gave some thought to going back inside. Somehow he always seemed to surround himself with people that enjoyed teasing him and though he knew he was often too much of an easy mark he could never seem to help himself. Getting angry was easier than trying to delve inside himself to see what it was about their words that bothered him so much. Of course, almost anything was easier than delving inside himself for any reason. He wasn’t a man built for heavy introspection.

Just before he decided that he _was_ supposed to be watching the children and should probably go make sure Izuna wasn’t immediately circumventing his ‘no treats’ rule, the very person he’d been thinking about came out to sit down beside him. Madara huffed and looked in the opposite direction. Izuna bopped their shoulders together.

“Did you like the present I sent home to you?” the younger man said.

“You are a waste of oxygen. Go breathe someone else’s air.”

“Aww I love you too, big brother!” Izuna dropped a head on to his shoulder, which he promptly shrugged back off. “Oh, I see. Someone’s in a grump. Is it because you have triple babysitting duty today? I thought Kagami’s parents were due back today.”

Madara shrugged. “They’re just taking a couple extra days.”

“Maybe they sensed a good opportunity to lure old Tobes here and decided to stay late just to give you an extra chance to confess your feelings!”

“We-! You-! I don’t have any feelings!” Standing from the porch, he shoved one finger in his brother’s face just as he opened his mouth with a mocking light in his eye. “Don’t you say anything! You know what I meant!”

He’d been meaning to go back inside anyway. That was the only reason he was storming back through the kitchen to huffily retrieve Kagami from a now calm Tobirama’s arms. His guest tried to offer him a friendly smile and Madara wrinkled his nose at the man. Tobirama only shook his head and smiled wider.

“If you keep doing that your face will get stuck that way,” he said. Madara wrinkled his nose harder. “Your choice. I should head back to the office but do feel free to ask for my help if it does get stuck like that. I’m sure I could soften you up a bit.”

“I, uh, what?” Madara blinked in confusion. Izuna, only just now trailing in to the room, doubled over where he stood and began to make choking noises.

Tobirama stood gracefully from the couch, taking the pictures drawn by both girls with him as he swanned across the room to the front door. As he passed Izuna he directed a smirk his way and murmured, “Do you know, when you choke like that you sound _just_ like your brother.”

A moment later he was out the door and Madara didn’t really get why Izuna had suddenly started screaming. Something about an innuendo. Whatever it was, he figured it was safer not to ask.


	7. Chapter 7

A bad feeling settled over him right away when Hashirama sent someone to fetch him from the park. He wasn’t even supposed to be watching the boy who was clinging to his leg, he’d just seen his clan Head walking by as he was playing and had attached himself to his favorite babysitter. It took a couple minutes to convince the kid to go back to his mother and when he did Madara hurried away with Kagami held tight. He dearly wished he knew what it was about himself that kids loved – so he could viciously smother that quality and expel it from his life. He just wanted a rest. Now free, Madara made his way to the Hokage’s Tower with utmost haste.

Ten minutes later he wished he had walked slower or perhaps not made it there at all. Kagami wriggled in his arms, blissfully unaware of the news which had just come crashing down upon Madara’s shoulders, news which affected him so closely.

“I’m so sorry Madara,” Hashirama murmured. The words were a poor consolation but it was all he had to offer. He knew how much his friend hated flowery, insincere platitudes.

“Were the scouts certain?” Madara asked, his eyes on the child in his arms. “Is there any possibility they misidentified the bodies?”

“The woman who found them was a close personal friend.”

“Ah.”

Luckily there was a chair just behind him because Madara failed to check for one before he allowed his body to sag backwards. He plopped down on to the cushion with little grace, his expression glassy and distant.

It was strange now, receiving news of a death. There had been a point in his life when he had come to expect it, when war raged around him each and every day, making death almost commonplace in a way it should never be. But now they were a village and life was supposed to be more peaceful. It _was_ more peaceful. And that was probably why it struck him so hard to hear that not one but two members of his clan had lost their lives in battle not a day’s journey from home. There hadn’t been an Uchiha death for the past nine months and he’d allowed his heart to grow complacent. The walls he’d built against this grief were weakened.

“What will happen to the child?” Hashirama pushed himself away from the desk to come brush his fingers against Kagami’s cheeks. “Does he have any other family to go to?”

“No, neither of them had any siblings and neither of their parents survived the clan wars.”

“So what happens, then?”

“I don’t know.”

Madara offered Kagami his finger as he had seen Tobirama do, letting him suckle on the tip to keep him happy until he could go home and find him a bottle. It was nearly time for his next feeding. His diaper should probably be checked as well; it had been a while since his last change. Had he remembered to pick up more diapers like Izuna reminded him yesterday before leaving?

He could tell what his mind was doing, concentrating on anything else that it could to avoid the fallout of what was happening around him. In the past he had scorned others for being unable to handle bad news and always told them in cold tones to be stronger, a better shinobi, that death touched everyone and no one should allow themselves to fall apart over something like this. Those times seemed like a horrible memory of another person from another time. Madara could hardly imagine how he had made them feel. Had he so easily forgotten how it felt when his own brother’s died? This pain was nothing compared to that and yet still it left holes in his chest, a tightness in his lungs.

The world felt unsteady around him as he stood from his seat, Hashirama scurrying to give him the room to do so. His steps didn’t quite stumble as he made his way out of the office he had only arrived in a few minutes ago but he certainly wasn’t walking the straightest line he ever had before. Seeing that there was little he could do, Hashirama refrained from following.

Madara intended to go home, he really did. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to detour through the market place instead. Perhaps it was the way the noise of the crowds drowned out all the thoughts in his head. Or perhaps it was the way his eyes kept searching every face he passed, almost expecting a certain couple to appear from behind each new gaggle of shoppers and greet him with the same grateful smiles they always had.

Tobirama found him not half an hour later. He was standing between a fruit stand and a woman selling handwoven crafts, staring at the back of a stranger’s head and willing them to turn around. Their looks were so similar to the ones he kept hoping to find. When Tobirama stepped in front of him Madara didn’t have the energy to be startled; he simply blinked and drew his brows together in a helpless look. Warm hands settled under his own, cradling the child that he had only distantly noted was starting to squirm with hunger and relieving him of his burden.

“Come on, let’s get you both home.” Tobirama’s voice was gentler than he had ever heard it before.

“He doesn’t have a home anymore,” Madara murmured.

“We’ll find him one.”

Madara allowed the other man to guide him around with one hand, the other holding the baby to his chest. He let himself be led all the way home and in to the house. It felt as though he had just sat down on the couch before Tobirama had Kagami in the playpen and a mug of steaming tea on the coffee table for him. When Tobirama sat down next to him he didn’t try to stop himself from leaning a bit closer.

“Your brother told you,” he surmised, still trying to distract himself.

“He did. I thought you might wish for some company. Though, if I’ve overstepped my bounds I can go if you wish.”

“Stay.” Madara took a sip of tea and watched Kagami play with the mobile hanging from one side of his play area. “It’s nice not to be alone.”

“Would you prefer Izuna? I could find him.”

Tea almost slopped on to his fingers when he shook his head, making him realize that his hands were already shaking. “He accepted another mission. Won’t be back for a solid month this time.” His breath was shaking as well when he gave a small sigh. “I don’t…I…he’s got no one now. His parents are dead. Kagami’s parents are _dead_. What do I do? He’s all alone.”

He was grateful when the mug was taken from him before he could drop it on himself. Warmth engulfed his hands and he realized that Tobirama was holding them in his own. He should have protested, should have yelled indignantly about proper boundaries and behaviors. Instead he leaned just a little farther to the left; his side was warm too.

“Aniki has been working on setting up an official orphanage for the village.” Tobirama told him. “Does your clan have any system in place for when this happens?”

“Our families are so large this usually _doesn’t_ happen. There’s almost always a relative, even if a distantly related one. His situation is so unusual for us.” Extremely unusual considering the Uchiha propensity for mating like bunny rabbits, a habit born from too many years at war. Clan members were expected to produce as many sons and daughters as possible to be sacrificed to the battlefields, a way of life they had lived with for so long they had stopped seeing the horror in it.

“Do you know of anyone who would be willing to take him in?”

Madara gulped, looking urgently between Tobirama and the tiny, helpless baby waving chubby arms around in the playpen. “I don’t want him to go,” he admitted quietly. Tobirama nodded slowly, giving his words the solemn consideration they required.

“You know what that would mean, right? That wouldn’t be eternal babysitting Madara that would be permanent fatherhood. You can’t just stop being a father when you get tired or bored or overwhelmed. You can ask for help, of course, but-”

“I know that. I know he would be here forever and I…do you think I would be good at it?”

“At being a father?”

“Yes.”

Tobirama gave him the slightest smile, a sad yet tender expression. “I think you would need a lot of help but yes. You would be a good father. Anyone can see how fond you are of the children under your care, even when you pretend that you aren’t.”

“Thank you,” Madara murmured, looking away to hide his suddenly glowing cheeks. Such praise from Tobirama was more than he expected. The more he thought about it the more it felt right and he knew this was the path he wanted to take. He wanted to give Kagami a home here. He wanted to raise him and love him and watch with pride as he grew up to be a wonderful shinobi – no, a wonderful person.

“Do you think you’ll be okay until Izuna gets home?” Tobirama’s words froze him.

“Oh. Oh fire nuts…”

“Putting aside your terrible swearing-”

“There is a baby right there!”

“Is there anyone else that could come help out if you need it until he gets back?”

Madara bit down on both of his lips, his eyebrows slowly climbing upwards as he turned to give the man beside him a pitifully hopeful look. It took a moment for Tobirama to look away from where he had begun to watch Kagami playing but as soon as he did his eyes blew wide.

“What.” His voice was flat, making it more of a statement than a question.

“You help all the time anyway,” Madara pointed out. “You _like_ Kagami. And!” He retrieved one of his hands only to use it to poke the younger man in his distractingly solid chest. “You’re the one who said you were ‘warming up to me’. Why don’t you want to help _now_?”

“I don’t think you quite understand what you’re asking, so in the case of any complaints I reserve the right to remind you that this was your own idea.”

A confused look of his face, Madara tilted his head to one side. “Uh, okay.” That struck him as an odd stipulation to make but it seemed fair so he let it pass. What mattered was that Tobirama appeared to have agreed to helping him out with the latest adventure he had somehow wandered his way in to. He had agreed to teach Madara how to be a good father.

There were still a lot of things that needed to be done about the situation: the affairs of the deceased would need to be settled, any will they might have written would need to be enacted, their possessions would need sorting and redistributing. As clan Head it was Madara’s responsibility to at least delegate these tasks. He knew that Kagami’s possessions – clothes, toys, bottles – would all be moved to his own abode. He would need to make room for them all.

For some reason all he could think was that he would no longer have a spare bedroom. Now it would be Kagami’s bedroom. Should he paint it?

All of that could wait, though. Hashirama was still looking in to who had killed the two they had lost and their deaths had yet to be formally announced. Madara would need to shore up his defenses before he had to face the public again. He was the leader, the one whom others were supposed to look up to and take example from. He might have sympathy for how they felt now but that didn’t mean he was free to fall apart in front of them; he still had to be strong for his clan.

“They were good people,” he said out of nowhere. Tobirama squeezed the one hand he still held.

“I never met them but I trust your judgement. I’m sure they were both wonderful, exemplary members of the Uchiha clan.”

“They _were_ ,” Madara insisted, unsure why he felt so defensive on their behalf.

“And I’m sure they will be missed.”

“They will.”

“By you.”

“I don’t miss anyone. I hate people. You’re all stupid.”

“Madara.” He looked over reluctantly to see Tobirama giving him a serious look, one that seemed to burn through him with things he couldn’t even identify through the maelstrom inside. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Without giving much thought to why, Madara believed him. He closed his eyes, first looking away and then quickly turning back to bury his head in Tobirama’s shoulder. Both men held perfectly still as he let himself mourn at last. He didn’t cry – there were too many years of training ingrained in him for the tears to even physically come now – but he let his heart spill itself over behind his ribcage and reach out for the comfort that was being offered to him. His head pressed harder against his companion’s shoulder as he mentally curled in to a ball and wondered why so many good things only ever seemed to come about after such terrible tragedies.

Tobirama said nothing while he took his time, which Madara was grateful for. He could feel the younger man’s thumb stroking the back of his hand and concentrated on that, how it tapped in time with his calming heartbeat.

It was about twenty minutes before he raised his head again and other than that thumb Tobirama didn’t so much as twitch the entire time. When he sat up straight Madara took a deep breath to steady himself. He felt more centered now, less like the ground was tilting under his feet and more like he was capable of taking on the hurdles before him.

“Better?” Tobirama asked. Madara nodded.

“I was supposed to feed Kagami,” he said off-handedly. See? He was being a responsible father already.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it.”

With one final squeeze to his hand Tobirama let go and stood up to head for the kitchen. Madara felt abruptly bereft without his touch. He rubbed at his now cold arm to try and push the feeling away. There was no reason to feel lonely all of sudden. Tobirama was still here, he’d just popped out to the kitchen.

Indeed, the other man returned in under a minute with a bottle and a smile. He headed straight for the playpen to fetch the baby then returned to the couch. Madara refused to shift over to give him more room, which pressed their sides together again. Neither of them mentioned it. Silence reigned as Kagami sucked at his bottle enthusiastically, entirely unconcerned with anything that wasn’t filling his belly. Madara envied him his carefree ignorance.

After his meal and a good burping Kagami sat on Tobirama’s lap and played with the end of his obi, waving it about and doing his best to chew on the light yellow material despite not having any teeth yet. Tobirama pinched his cheek lightly.

“We’ll have to make sure he has some teething toys soon. He’s about due for them.”

“What’s a teething toy?”

“For him to chew on while his first teeth are coming in. It helps relieve the discomfort.”

Madara frowned thoughtfully and tilted his head. He vaguely remembered Izuna with a smooth wooden ring that he had chewed on constantly at around eight months old. To be honest he hadn’t thought much of it. Babies put stuff in their mouths all the time.

Although he would never admit it out loud, he was more grateful than he had words for that Tobirama had agreed to help him. With him as backup, Madara was sure that he and Kagami would be just fine. He almost couldn’t wait to learn more. Being attracted to men rather than women, he’d never even considered the possibility of having children of his own one day. It was why he’d never bothered to learn anything about them until one day he found himself an unwitting babysitter drowning in snotty noses and tiny humans who needed more to eat than some poorly slices apples.

Now here he was jumping in with both feet and it wasn’t as scary as one would have expected it to be. He didn’t know enough and Madara was well aware of that. But, glancing sideways at Tobirama as he smiled down at the baby and tickled his feet, he thought there was a pretty good chance that everything was going to turn out okay.

“We can go pick some up tomorrow.”

So long as he could continue to rely on the man next to him, Madara felt like he could do pretty much anything.


	8. Chapter 8

Despite the influx of advice and helpful tips from various parents in his clan, as well as some others from outside his clan, Madara could still hardly believe the amount of truth behind the statement that being a parent was a tough job. He had only been at this for two months, only two measly months of being a full-time caretaker for a child who couldn’t even communicate his most basic needs, and already he was exhausted.

The only thing keeping his head above the water was Tobirama – and even that was another source of intermittent panic. Two months after he had all but silently begged the man for his help Madara woke up one morning and wondered, not at all calmly, when the hell Tobirama had moved in with him.

Sunlight through the window created a halo around the Senju’s white hair, all that Madara could see from where he lay behind him. He wondered idly how he could have gotten so used to another man falling asleep in his bed. It had all somehow just become so commonplace and each little thing was just _so little_ that it barely registered until here he was with a bunch of them stacked together to make a _big_ thing: were he and Tobirama living together?

Although the offer of aid had only been for the one month, Tobirama had quickly figured out after his return that Izuna was only marginally better at caring for children than his brother was and had therefore continued to come over as much as he could. He became a regular figure in the house around dinner time, sometimes teaching Madara how to do something in the kitchen and other times simply cooking a meal while they chatted about whatever the latest council meeting had covered. There had been so many nights where one or the other fell asleep on the couch after staying up with Kagami long in to the night that it became an unspoken agreement that they were both welcome in the bed when it was needed.

That didn’t explain the new clothes in his closet or the new dishes in his cupboards. Madara was reasonably sure that half of the products in the bathroom were not his own, though he didn’t remember when they had gotten there. The higher shelves of his living room were cluttered with books about subjects he couldn’t begin to understand, interspersed with papers written in a hand that wasn’t his.

It was like one day he had come over and simply not gone back home. Madara couldn’t remember the last time he had gone to sleep without waking up to the always adorable sight of Tobirama snuggled up to him in one way or another, sighing and snuffling and occasional sneezing in his sleep. They babysat the Uchiha clan children together. They rotated schedules so that one or the other could take missions if needed and still have someone home to watch the baby. They spent quiet evenings sitting across the kitchen table from each other, going through reports and paperwork, silent but taking comfort in each other’s company.

Scrunching his nose as Tobirama’s hair tickled him, Madara realized he suddenly understood all those weird teasing comments his brother had been making lately about big happy families. He made a mental note to dunk Izuna’s head in the next big pot of stew which presented itself while he carefully extracted himself from the bed. Tobirama mewled and rolled over, one arm flung out in protest of him leaving. Madara bit his lip and told himself he did not want to go back to bed for any reason.

Turning his back to the sight helped a little. He kept his poor heart calm by concentrating on finding clean clothes to wear for the day, very carefully not thinking about how often he’d had this same problem over the past eight weeks. Of course, he made sure to dress himself in worn out clothes that he wouldn’t mind getting a few stains on. Although he had mentioned that they should do this a long time ago, they were only just now getting around to repainting little Kagami’s room.

Madara had wanted purple, of course. It was a regal color and he felt his only child deserved to live the life of royalty, no matter his young age. Apparently, however, the color he had picked out wasn’t quite acceptable for whatever reason. Tobirama had called it a ‘violent shade’ and pleaded with him to consider another. After a lot of paint swatches and not a few loud words they had eventually compromised on a nice soothing green color. It wasn’t purple but at the very least it wasn’t the brilliant orange Hashirama had tried to talk them in to or the eye-sore yellow that Izuna had voted for. Why either of those idiots should have a say when they didn’t even live here was beyond him.

As he slipped quietly out of the bedroom, Madara had to gird his heart against another mewl. The hand that Tobirama had flung out was searching blindly through the sheets, trying to figure out where his source of warmth had gone. Madara frowned so that he wouldn’t smile and stepped in to Kagami’s room to check on him. Miraculously, the baby was still asleep, which left him free to go make some coffee.

Enjoying a cup of coffee alone in the morning had become a rare occasion and it felt nice to savor the bitter liquid by himself for the first time in a couple of weeks, standing by the open window and breathing deeply of the breeze that drifted in. The backyard was a riot of colors, barely any leaves left on the trees and not enough time between himself and Tobirama to go rake the ones which had fallen. He supposed he could have one of the lesser clan members do it but at the same time he knew he wouldn’t ask them.

It was no one’s business to be snooping around their home, thank you. Just having someone in to gather the laundry was invasive enough for his tastes.

Surprisingly it wasn’t the cry of a baby that disturbed his moment of peace, but Tobirama. Madara nearly lost his grip on the coffee cup he was holding when he saw the younger man come shuffling around the corner knuckling both of his eyes like a sleepy child. Only two months of practice helped him gently set the cup down.

“M’rnin’.”

That early morning slur, too, would have caused immediate melting without a great deal of daily experience.

“Good morning,” Madara replied. To this day he remained baffled about Tobirama’s sleep habits. How could someone who came wide awake at a moment’s notice to be perfectly alert when on a mission also be the sleepiest shuffle-footed gremlin every morning at home? It made no sense! When he mentioned it to Hashirama the man had giggled and muttered something about safety. Madara just didn’t get it.

“Coffee?” The word was slurred by a yawn but Madara understood it.

“There’s more in the pot.”

With an absent nob, Tobirama reached up to rifle through the cupboards. His hands came back down clutching a solid blue mug patterned with a rippling wave around the middle that Madara was sure hadn’t been there until a few weeks ago. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with all the other mugs. They were rather pretty in his opinion with all their matching floral patterns. Delicate, one might say. But Tobirama always seemed to want his wavy blue cup.

At least two full cups of black coffee had been consumed before Madara thought his companion might be awake enough for conversation. Like he did every morning, Tobirama had slowly shuffled his way closer as though his body were unconsciously trying to snuggle back up to him and perhaps fall asleep standing up.

“You reminded Hashirama last night that he agreed to watch Kagami for us?”

“Hn.” Tobirama tossed back the last of his cup as his body gave in and slumped next to the counter, his side pressed into Madara’s. “Better. I reminded Mito.”

“Ah.” He didn’t even try to stop the evil grin from forming on his face. Hashirama’s wife was a force of nature and she absolutely wouldn’t let him forget about the responsibilities he had agreed to.

Just as he was about to say something more they both looked up at the sound of Kagami, quiet fussing noises floating down the hall to let them know that their baby had awoken hungry like he always did. They were both out of the kitchen before one could blink, down the hall and in to Kagami’s room so that Madara could lift him from his crib with a cheerful greeting. Tobirama, at least, remembered to grab a bottle on the way.

“Who’s my big strong morning man?” Madara cooed, nuzzling his nose in to Kagami’s stomach. The baby squirmed, his cries having quieted the moment he caught sight of the two of them. He was smart for an infant and he seemed to understand that when his caretakers arrived he was more than likely to be fed or soothed or whatever he happened to need at the time. By the time he started talking he was more than likely to be well aware that he already had two of the village’s most powerful shinobi wrapped around his tiny fingers.

After his breakfast Kagami wriggled about until Madara set the boy against his shoulder. Then he cooed and waved for Tobirama until the man reached out, grabbing ahold of one finger and immediately shoving it in to his mouth. Tobirama chuckled while Madara gave himself a very stern talking to about when it was and wasn’t appropriate to have a mental breakdown. Fate had his eternal gratitude for sending Hashirama bursting through the back door only moments later.

“Where is he?” a booming voice asked from the kitchen. “Where’s my favorite nephew?”

“He’s your _only_ nephew,” Tobirama called back.

At the same time Madara screeched, “He’s not your nephew!”

“There he is!” Hashirama cheerfully ignored both of them, throwing his arms wide in sunny greeting as they all trooped out to meet him in the living room. His smile immediately focused on Kagami. “He’s the most handsome nephew in the universe! Are you handsome? Yes you are! Yes you are!” His fingers were tickling toes before anyone could blink – at least until Madara fended him off with one foot kicking at his shins.

“Get away from me, you stupid tree.”

“He’s getting so big!” Hashirama made grabby hands until Madara sighed exasperatedly and transferred the child in to his arms.

“Hold his – hold his head you lug!” Shifting his weight back and forth, Madara watched his friend nervously to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt Kagami. He glared when Tobirama laughed at him quietly. “What? He wasn’t doing it right!”

“Aniki knows how to hold a child, it’s fine.”

“Well I’m just making sure!”

“I know.” Tobirama patted him on the shoulder and Madara crossed his arms, pouting at the way he instantly felt calmer. “You are, after all, a good father.”

Swelling with pride, he decided that perhaps it would behoove him to be a little more trusting. Hashirama wasn’t doing anything terrible yet so he could afford him a little leeway. The painful retribution and extensive torture could wait until after he had fucked up.

Their illustrious Hokage didn’t stay very long. Once he had the prize he’d come looking for he was only too eager to escape back home where he could play house with his wife for the day. Mito had recently agreed that the time was right to begin trying for a child of their own and she was grateful for every chance Hashirama had to practice caring for one. Madara only wished he didn’t have to worry so much. That was _his_ child they were practicing on; he had every right to be nervous.

Now alone, Madara fetched the cans of paints they had purchased yesterday from the hall closet while Tobirama went to change in to some old clothing. Neither of them wanted to be wearing their Sunday best in case of any spills or drips. Together they pulled all the furniture away from the walls and covered them with canvas sheets. After covering the floor as well they were ready to start.

Although he had never so much as painted a fence before in his entire life, Madara didn’t think it could really be that hard to paint a bedroom. The basic principal was simple: dip brush in sticky colored substance, smother sticky colored substance on wall. Result? A wall with a different color than before! As it turned out, however, the process was a little bit more complicated than that.

His first attempted stroke was deemed by his partner to be too thick and he had to be shown how to spread the paint a little thinner. Apparently they were going to have to do this in layers, waiting for it to dry between each one. That _would_ explain why he’d had to buy so many buckets of paint. Now worried about using too much, his second attempt barely dipped his brush in the can and covered very little wall when he smoothed it over the old light pink. This was strangely harder than he’d thought it would be.

Checking on Tobirama didn’t make him feel much better. The younger man had managed to cover nearly an entire wall already with neat and orderly brush strokes, not too thick but not too thin. Madara harrumphed. What made it so easy for _him_ to do this? It wasn’t like he spent his downtime painting lots of bedrooms – and Madara would know!

Upon hearing his grumpy huffing, Tobirama turned to look at him curiously over one shoulder. He had to blink and stop moving for a few seconds to process the sight of it. Tobirama had paint streaked across one cheek, possibly or possibly not from the drip that was dangling from a few strands of his fringe. The green color stood out brightly on his pale white skin and somehow made him look almost like an early spring morning. Or something. Not that Madara was trying to find something suitable to compare him to.

“You’re looking at me strangely,” Tobirama informed him. Madara did a quick mental inventory and discovered that his face had rearranged itself in to what might, in some societies, be described as a besotted expression. He quickly changed in to a scowl.

“Well you’ve gone and made a mess of yourself!” he declared.

His companion raised one eyebrow but didn’t say anything else as he stomped across the room, forgetting about the paintbrush in one hand while he raised the other to swipe away the offending streak of green.

All he got for his efforts was a bigger smudge.

“And how well did that work out for you?” Tobirama asked him with a smirk.

“Shut up!” Madara tried again, cupping the man’s chin with his palm so his thumb could rub at the stubborn splotch. Yet again, all the paint did was spread even more. “Evil stuff! It’s not cooperating!”

“I think it’s doing what it’s supposed to do,” Tobirama disagreed in a soft voice. His smirk stayed, though it lessened until it was almost a mere smile.

Right about then, Madara realized exactly what he was doing. He was _holding Tobirama’s face_ , almost caressing him like a pair of lovers. Although he hadn’t meant to, the way he had stepped up to him had left them standing so close that their chests were nearly brushing. While he’d been scrubbing away, his concentration on the task at hand had him leaning in until their faces were only inches apart. Only now did he realize how compromising their position was when you took all these factors in to account.

The idea of it sent him reeling back, snatching his hand away as though the other man’s skin had burned him from such a simple touch. He had enough brain power to realize that Tobirama didn’t look all that surprised by his reaction, only a little saddened, but he didn’t have the brain power to contemplate why.

“Your face is all dirty!” he managed to say in a strangled yet accusatory tone. Tobirama only hummed as he bent down to dip his brush and go back to what he’d been doing.

“That does tend to happen.”

Madara snorted and whipped around to face his own wall, as pitifully covered as it was. He’d have to try twice as hard from now on if he didn’t want Tobirama showing him up too much. It would hardly be proper for him to be made to look bad at something as silly as painting. That simply wouldn’t do at all.

Over the next few hours Kagami’s room received two full coats of paint. They broke for lunch and chatted calmly about nothing in particular while they waited for the first thin coat to dry. When they went in to start the second coat Madara could spot right away which portions of the wall he had painted and which portions Tobirama had done. His own spots were uneven, sometimes too thick and sometimes with unsightly drips in some places. He went back at it with a will, determined to do it better the second time around.

The second coat was finished right around dinner time. It was only one room and it wasn’t all that big. Really it shouldn’t have taken them so long to complete it – and it wouldn’t have if Madara hadn’t distracted them both with the idea of procuring different colored paints and depicting little animals on the wall.

When they finally called it a day both men took the time to have a shower, scrubbing away the flecks of paint that both had known were inevitable. Madara sort of mourned the loss of that thin spread of green from Tobirama’s cheek. He couldn’t say why it was a disappointment to have it gone but it was; almost like a lost opportunity, although what opportunity he might have lost was beyond him.

After that it was off to Hashirama’s to pick up Kagami. After dinner it would be close to his bedtime and Madara was a little frustrated that they wouldn’t have much time to spend with him that day. It was hard enough when he had to go away for missions. Somehow being in the same village and yet still not having the time to spend with him was strangely worse. By the way Tobirama used his hiraishin to transport them instantly instead of enjoying the short walk over, he surmised that the other agreed with him.

“Who’s that, Kagami?” They heard Hashirama saying as soon as they arrived. “Who is it? Who’s here?”

“Don’t baby-talk him so much, Aniki, he’ll never learn to speak like a normal human being.” Despite his grumpy tone, Tobirama was already smiling as he hurried forward to take the baby from his brother’s arms.

Madara made to follow after him at first but then slowed his steps and simply watched from afar. His partner just looked so _happy_ as he reached for Kagami, lifting him up above him head and making funny faces to elicit tinkling little giggles. He stopped about halfway across the room and observed, unaware of the contented smile he wore on his face, doing his best to deny the beating of his heart inside his chest.

Had he expected these kind of moments in his life? Absolutely not; he never could have imagined this in his wildest dreams. Was he happy that he had them? Yes. Though he would never admit it out loud in a million years, Madara wouldn’t trade these moments for anything.


	9. Chapter 9

It was quite lucky that Tobirama was home today, Madara thought as he stomped his way to the bedroom. By some unforeseen stroke of luck neither of them were required at any meetings that day, allowing them both to work from home and ensuring that Tobirama was present to watch over Kagami while Madara went and expressed his irritation somewhere away from the child. He was _not_ throwing a tantrum, just venting his feeling in a completely reasonable and very adult way. Stomping didn’t count. That was just the way he walked.

While Madara would be the first to agree that fatherhood was an extremely rewarding experience he would also be one of the first to get upset each and every time his child sicked up on him. There was little he disliked more than being coated in someone else’s vomit. Give him blood, give him intestines, hell, give him the pureed remnants of an opponent’s brain splattered across his face, _anything_ was better than vomit. At least when Kagami had been sick that one time it had been somewhat excusable. Now the only excuse was that he had eaten too fast.

Muttering darkly under his breath, Madara tore the shirt from his body and threw it through the door of the laundry room as he passed it by. He marched in to the master bedroom with his chin jutting out aggressively in front of him and headed straight for the dresser. Without even bothering to check what he had grabbed he shrugged his way in to the first shirt that came to hand, tying off the obi and storming halfway across the room again before he noticed anything amiss. The shirt felt too small for some reason. Looking down at himself, he realized why.

This wasn’t his shirt. This was Tobirama’s shirt. In fact, he was pretty sure it was the shirt that Kagami had thrown up on when he’d had the flu. Ironic, considering why he’d needed to change now. What was it doing in with _his_ clothes instead of the drawers the younger man had taken over?

After a moment of thought it came to him: Tobirama had left it here that night, thrown in with his laundry and forgotten about. Then, of course, it had been taken away to be washed and returned to Madara, who didn’t generally like to sort his clothing before putting them away. He was lucky if he remembered to separate pants and shirts rather than stuffing things in to whichever drawer happened to have some free space at the time. It boggled him how his partner managed to keep his clothing so organized all the time. Except for this one little item which had made its way in to Madara’s possession.

Checking around to make sure no one was looking – as though someone would _dare_ to sneak in to the home of not only Uchiha Madara but also Senju Tobirama, he raised the collar and ducked his face in to it, inhaling deeply. Despite having been washed and left in a drawer for more than two months, it still smelled like its owner. Tobirama’s distinctive scent of sandalwood and weapon oil washed over him like a wave of calm, like the scent of hope that he hadn’t even noticed he associated with safety and happiness until this very moment.

Madara’s fingers twitched and his eyes shot open, staring at the wall with abject horror. A tiny squeak escaped him and before he knew it he was scrambling for the door. It crashed against the wall as he fell through it but he didn’t bother to stop and check for damage in the plaster, just hurried down the hallway with heavy feet. He nearly ran straight in to Tobirama as he burst in to the living room, the younger man catching him by the arms at the last second to avoid a collision.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. Madara made another squeak, frozen in place for perhaps ten seconds before he reeled away and lunged for the front door.

“No! Nothing! I go – have to – I have to go!”

“Madara?”

“No!”

He was gone before the other could say anything else, slamming the door behind himself and taking to the rooftops. Only when the cold air rushing past his face began to cool it did he finally register the raging blush which had taken over his features. Were he wearing his armor he would have matched the color of it. Instead he was still wearing Tobirama’s shirt.

Madara ran faster.

When he dropped down from the rooftops and wrenched open the front door of the home he’d arrived at, the hinges squealed in protest of his accidental overuse of strength. In his haste he left it wide open, pouring himself in through the doorway and immediately screaming loudly for Hashirama.

He found his friend sitting at the kitchen table where he had been enjoying lunch with his wife. Mito looked a trifle annoyed at the interruption but Hashirama had a more proper response, worry plain in his expression. It was obvious that he was trying to ask what was wrong but was having a bit of difficulty through his overlarge bite of rice. Madara beat him to the punch.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THAT I’M IN LOVE WITH TOBIRAMA!?”

In the silence that followed, Madara would almost swear that he heard crickets.

Hashirama stopped chewing frantically, staring at him with wide eyes and stuffed cheeks. Mito regarded him as one might an idiot who simply could not understand something. Eventually she sighed and rose gracefully from her chair, scooting around where he stood gasping for breath, and kissed her husband delicately on the top of his head.

“I’ll leave you two alone, shall I?” She waved without looking back as she floated from the room. Hashirama gulped his mouthful down in what looked like a very painful swallow.

“You…uh…didn’t know that?” he rasped.

“NO I DID NOT KNOW THAT.”

“Madara it was…kind of obvious, you know?” Hashirama scratched wonderingly at his head. “I mean, everybody else knew. You guys live together and you’re raising a baby together and he flirts with you _all the time_. That’s part’s kind of gross, actually.”

“Well when you put it like that…” Madara whimpered faintly. “I didn’t know! I can’t be in love with him! That’s not fair!”

“Huh? Why can’t you be in love with him?”

“What if he doesn’t like me back!?”

Hashirama staring at him with wide eyes for the second time in less than five minutes probably should have been enough of a clue. When he burst in to laughter it definitely should have been enough of a clue. Unfortunately Madara had always been just a little too quick to anger and even in the midst of a complete and utter panic attack it was no different. He was across the room and bringing his fist down on top of his best friend’s head in less than a second.

“You’re supposed to help me not laugh at me! Idiot! Dolt! Black thumb!”

“Oh that one’s rude!”

“You’re the one being rude! I hate you! You’re a bad friend, laughing at me in my hour of need!” Madara spun around and stomped back out the way he had come in. “Well fine! I don’t need you! There’s only one thing to do now!”

“Where are you going?” Hashirama called after him.

“I’m leaving of course! I can’t stay there knowing this!”

Hashirama tried to call him back but whatever he was saying was lost in the vortex as Madara used a body flicker to return home. If he simply appeared in the bedroom then perhaps Tobirama wouldn’t know that he was there and he could gather some clothes and escape with the younger man none the wiser.

Of course, because that was just his luck, Tobirama found him almost immediately. Evidently in his haste he’d forgotten about the whole ‘he’s a sensor’ thing. He didn’t have to ask where the baby was; he could hear him giggling away as he babbled to himself sleepily in his bedroom, probably in the crib. It _was_ about time for his afternoon nap.

“Madara?” Tobirama took a few steps towards him, stopping abruptly when Madara stepped back. “What’s wrong? You rushed out so fast; I was worried.”

He wanted to say something caustic, something jagged and heated to wedge in to the space between them and give himself some room to breathe. Perhaps it would be better that way, easier to leave if he could just pretend his world was still normal for just a few more minutes. Yet he couldn’t seem to say anything at all. No words would come to him, leaving him staring at the other man with wide frightened eyes and a stiff spine as he stood frozen like spotted prey.

Something in his expression must have spoken to Tobirama in some way, revealed something to him that Madara was unaware he was giving away. The concerned fear in his face melted away to be replaced with something soft and gentle. It was an expression he had worn before but Madara had never been able to decipher its meaning. He dearly wished he could now.

When Tobirama took a step closer he took one back to match, keeping the distance between them. The younger man shook his head without losing the softness in his appearance and took another step closer. They matched each other step for step almost like a dance until Madara’s back hit the wall and he had nowhere else to go. He gulped, feeling trapped as Tobirama continued to come closer. He should have looked like a predator on the hunt but instead he looked eerily similar to how he always did just before gracing Kagami with a hug.

Madara’s panic increased a little with each step until finally they were chest to chest, barely a few inches separating them. He gasped when a pale hand rose up to cup the side of his face.

“Finally figured it out, did you?” Tobirama murmured quietly. Madara trembled.

“You already knew,” he accused in a tremulous whisper. Tobirama only smiled and tilted his head a bit closer.

“That you love me?” he said. “Yes, I knew that.”

It felt a little bit like the world ending. Life as he knew was over. Madara couldn’t even pay attention to the way each breath he took was shaking in his lungs. All his thoughts were the man before him. How could he not have known?

“Then why are you here?” he demanded. The words carried much less authority than he tried to inject them with. Tobirama’s gentle smile grew wider but no less gentle. His thumb stroked Madara’s cheek in a reflection of the way Madara had touched him not that long ago.

“Because I love you too.”

A cry escaped Madara’s lips and almost before he could process those words Tobirama leaned forward to close that last inch of distance between them.

Their first kiss was merely a brush, lips barely even touching. Only when Madara whimpered did Tobirama sink in to him and press more firmly, angling his head to deepen the kiss until it washed away the very reality around them. Madara wasn’t aware of digging his fingers in to sharp hip bones but he was more than aware of the arms that boldly wound their way around his neck until Tobirama was clutching him like he never wanted to let go. Honestly, he was more than okay with that.

When they parted he was panting, only just realizing that he had been holding his breath. His heart was leaping about inside his chest so much he actually feared it might burst straight out through his skin but he couldn’t help it. The only sound he could hear was the roar of blood in his ears and the happy little hum of contentment Tobirama made as he pressed their foreheads together, gazing in to his eyes with that look which had baffled him for too long now.

Apparently they’d both been in love this whole time. Go figure.

It took a few tries for him to be able to speak. Partly because of his continuing lack of ability to get proper oxygen, partly because Tobirama darted in to steal another kiss and set his head to spinning so badly he had to hold on tighter to the hips in his grasp.

“Oh.” Were he at all able to process any of this, it might have rankled that he didn’t have anything more intelligent to say. “I didn’t expect that.”

Tobirama sighed and leaned away to shake his head. “Uchiha Madara you are….one of a kind. And I wouldn’t change you for the world.” Madara flushed to the very roots of his hair.

“Sure you would,” he grumbled, looking away in an attempt to salvage some dignity. “You’d wish I was a better cook and that I knew how to make the bed properly or that I could talk about those dumb experiments with you more and –”

“Madara.” He fell silent. “When I said I loved you I meant that I love you just as you are and that I will continue to do so even if you never remember the difference between cloves and clover.”

“Oh.”

“You can huff and scream and stomp your feet all you like but it won’t hide what I can see inside. And I like what I see, otherwise I wouldn’t have waited nearly half a year for you to figure this out in your own time because I know how uncomfortable it would have made you if I had forced you to face it before you were ready to.”

“Hmph. Quit being so mushy.” His tone belied his words, breathy and enraptured. Even his body betrayed him by pushing impossibly closer in to his partner’s body. Tobirama laughed at him and, for once, he didn’t mind in the slightest. It was a happy laugh, a fond laugh, a laugh that he _finally_ understood.

“No,” Tobirama denied, still grinning widely. He looked so beautifully carefree.

“You – what the hell?”

Before he could reply properly Madara was cut off by a loud banging noise coming from the front of the house. Instinctively, they both froze and stared through the open door towards Kagami’s room, praying that the sound hadn’t woken him up. When they heard no crying both of their gazes turned to glare through the wall in the direction it had come from.

Knowing that Tobirama could feel the chakra of whoever was in the house, Madara felt no need to panic if his partner wasn’t doing so. Obviously it was someone they knew. But he very much did not appreciate having his home invaded without notice in such a loud manner – and he _especially_ did not appreciate it happening just when he was having a _moment_ that he had been waiting on for what felt like his entire adult life.

Whoever was in the living room was about to feel the wrath of an angry Uchiha.

“Madara?”

Tobirama tilted the corner of his mouth down in a confused scowl but Madara went pale with rage when he heard his best friend’s stage whisper all the way from here in the bedroom. What. The hell. Was Hashirama doing here?

“Madara? Are you here?”

“YOU EMPTY HEADED, BULL FOOTED, NO BRAIN BUFFOON!” Madara was out the door and down the hall before Tobirama could catch up to how angry he suddenly was.

Hashirama screeched when Madara descended upon him, throwing up both hands in defense and scrambling to get away from the murderous look in his eyes. “I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU WERE OKAY!”

“GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!”

“I’VE BEEN LOOKING ALL OVER FOR YOU!” With another screech, Hashirama dodged the tiny tongue of flame Madara spit at him. It hit the wall and left a scorch mark, which Hashirama glanced at before looking back to his friend in shock. “I’m just looking out for you!”

“I DON’T NEED YOU TO! GO AWAY!”

“What on _earth_ is happening right now?”

The two men who had begun grappling each other across the coffee table paused and looked over to see Tobirama standing at the end of the hallway with his feet planted and his arms crossed. His expression was none too pleased and they both felt a small shiver of fear go down their spines. Until Hashirama gasped dramatically and pointed wildly between him and Madara.

“You’re both here!” He exclaimed. Madara shook him a bit.

“Obviously! Now shut that stupid hole in your face and leave!”

“But Madara you said you were running away from home!”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I SAID!” Madara could feel the warmth in his cheeks almost as strongly as the weight of Tobirama’s gaze focusing on the side of his head. He shook the man in his grasp again. “I told you to get out! I don’t need you here! You’ll wake the baby with your useless hollering so just go!”

“Oh! Oh! Did you two confess!? You’re both so in love! My baby brother and my best friend!”

Hashirama burst in to tears with no more promoting. From his spot across the room, Tobirama continued to glare at Madara in a way that told him the younger man was not going to let that little tidbit slip by and that he would certainly be hearing about his foiled escape plans later. He wasn’t sure if he was shivering in dread or anticipation.

Either way, the moment between them had been thoroughly ruined by Hashirama’s buffoonery and if he was going to get in trouble later he figured he might as well _earn_ it. The stupid leafy idiot sobbing all down his front certainly deserved the thrashing that was about to come his way. That’s what one gets for interrupting something so important. He finally had something fantastic happen to him, he finally had _his_ moment for love to bloom, and Hashirama just had to jump in and ruin it.

Down the hall in his bedroom, little Kagami slept peacefully on, lulled in to sweeter dreams by the oh-so-familiar sound of his daddy’s indignant screaming.


	10. Chapter 10

Living with Tobirama and _living with Tobirama_ were two entirely different worlds. It might not have looked all that different to anyone observing them from an outside perspective but, if asked, Madara would have insisted that those two things were as different as night and day. The moment Tobirama had kissed him his world had changed – for the better, of course.

His new life came with fingers entwined as they watched Kagami try – and fail – to teach himself how to stand using the couch as support. It came with unending waves of pride washing him under again and again each time someone glanced at them walking side by side in the street. It came with trips to the market together and his own portion of the grocery list to gather. He didn’t always get it _right_ but even when he mistook a zucchini for an eggplant Tobirama had still given him that soft smile and stood a little closer, murmuring thank you in his ear and telling him what recipes they could make with this instead.

Most importantly though, more so than anything else, this new chapter in his life came with kisses. As it turned out, Tobirama was extremely fond of kisses at all times of the day. Within a week Madara had lost track of them all. His day started with good morning kisses and thank-you-for-the-coffee kisses. If he was the one to feed Kagami he sometimes got you-looked-cute kisses. After that he usually got goodbye kisses and then later welcome home kisses. There were I-love-you kisses and I’ve-missed-you kisses, sometimes even you-look-very-nice-in-that-shirt kisses. Out of all of them the ones that never failed to throw him off balance were the just-because kisses. He was never sure what he’d done to earn them.

Over the course of his life Madara had heard his fair share of epic romances. He’d heard the stories about couples who could move mountains and bring tyrannical regimes to their knees with the sheer power of their unflinching love. No he _hadn’t_ read the books. But in the silence of his heart Madara thought that was a rather apt description of the way he felt about Tobirama. He would do anything the younger man asked of him and do it with a smile if only for the reward of a soft peck on the lips and a heartfelt ‘well done’.

Some things hadn’t changed, of course. Yet they were still different in a sense because Madara had started to look at them differently. Or rather, he was finally realizing why he had even noticed all these little things in the first place and why they seemed to stick in his mind the way they did. Like the way Tobirama always wore that little red apron when he cooked and how adorable it made him look. Or the way he wriggled his nose when he was reading and never seemed to notice. Madara still had to stand up and walk away sometimes when Tobirama was eating his dinner and started separating his food so it wouldn’t touch on the plate. Why he found it so endearing was a mystery but he did and the lightness in his chest was so foreign he hardly knew what to do with it at times.

His life had changed in so many ways it was hard to think of them all in one sitting but he did have a favorite, one thing that he enjoyed more than anything else. Madara’s new favorite thing was nights like tonight, when their families all gathered under one roof to enjoy a meal together. He had spent many nights having dinner with Hashirama before and the better part of his life had been spent eating every meal with Izuna at his side, at home or on a mission. This was the first time in his memory, however, that he’d had all of his loved ones together in the same room.

Strangely enough, they were eating at Izuna’s home. He’d been absolutely flabbergasted when he’d casually mentioned the idea only to have Izuna jump all over it and offer his own abode as the gathering place. Tobirama didn’t seem all that surprised for some reason though he refused to say why, only rolled his eyes and pursed his lips.

It felt absolutely incredible to sit back after a wonderfully cooked meal and hold hands with Tobirama under the table, looking on in amusement while Touka and Hashirama bickered good-naturedly about who had gotten more kills on some mission they’d taken together almost five years ago. Mito was calmly pouring more jasmine tea for herself and Izuna, who was watching the argument beside himself with an enraptured expression. He always did like a good story about a battle.

Madara peeked behind himself, through the doorway to where he could just barely see the play pen he and Tobirama had brought with them. Kagami was still happily chewing on the wooden blocks Izuna had borrowed from his neighbor to let him play with. Even the baby seemed extra content as the evening wound down, as though he was picking up on the calm, happy atmosphere that had settled over all the adults in the room. Madara couldn’t help but draw a deep breath and let it back out in a pleased sigh. As he’d thought it might, the sound caught Tobirama’s attention and prompted the man to lean over and press a kiss in to his cheek. He did that every time Madara made that sound because he said it made him happy to see Madara so happy.

“Shall we take the tea out in to the backyard?” Mito asked the room at large, cutting across her husband’s voice when it began to rise in volume and toe outside the lines of ‘friendly family bickering’. Hashirama and Touka looked away from each other sheepishly as the rest of them agreed.

The first snow falls would come soon, in fact they should have been here already, but shinobi as smart as them had ways to ignore the discomforts of nature. Mito and Tobirama made quick work of setting up a net of seals over the back porch to push the impending winter season away and leave the air a pleasant enough temperature for them all to sit outside and enjoy a nice warm drink in the evening darkness. Tobirama carried Kagami out and settled the babe in his lap when he sat down. Madara took one look at him and felt his chest tighten. That was _his family_. They belonged to _him_.

As happened every so often, he found he couldn’t take it. The happiness was almost too much and he didn’t quite know what to do with the feeling.

“Get up,” he growled at his brother, latching on to Izuna’s shoulder in passing and hauling him out of the chair he’d just sat down in.

“Wha-? Fine! Don’t be so pushy!”

“I’m not pushing you,” Madara pointed out. “I’m pulling you.”

“Well looks who’s getting just as persnickety as his hubby.”

“There is a pond right there, Izuna, and I am not afraid to dunk you in it.”

The two of them shuddered almost imperceptibly as they passed through the barrier of seals, exposing themselves to the chilly air. Izuna was hugging himself as he turned to his sibling with a pouting lip. “But that’d be cold!”

Madara ignored him. He was too lost in his own head, wondering how Hashirama could possibly have survived this long when he always seemed to be this happy all the time. How did he deal with it? Was this why he always seemed to be just that little bit stronger than Madara? Suddenly all his long flowery speeches about being strong for his loved ones made a lot more sense.

Amazingly, Izuna managed to stay silent for another two full minutes and not tease him about a single thing as they strolled around the perimeter of his backyard. When Konoha had been built he’d had his home modeled to look as similar to their childhood home as possible. Almost everything was identical, right down to the dips in the ground that Madara instinctively walked around, and in a strange way it was almost as though he was walking back in time. It was like this moment were a meeting of his childhood and his adulthood during which all his could think about was the future. Madara wondered what his younger self would think of where he was now.

And then, like always, Izuna finally piped up to ruin the moment.

“So are you two going to try for more kids once Kagami’s a little older?” He laughed when Madara choked on an indignant screech.

“Absolutely not! We’re both men, you clod! Where exactly would we produce another child from?”

“I dunno, you could adopt again!”

Pausing ever so briefly to consider that, Madara shook his head quickly and harrumphed before leaning over to thump his brother over the head for such a stupid suggestion.

“Kagami is quite enough thank you!” he said. Not all discouraged, Izuna rubbed at his thick skull and waggled his eyebrows.

“But is old Tobes _enough_ for you? I’ve got to know! He looks like he’d be a cold fish.”

“You keep your mouth shut! That’s none of your business!” It certainly was warm outside. That was certainly the only reason his face felt a little heated. Unseasonal weather, that was all.

“Don’t tell me you still haven’t? What have you been doing brother?”

Izuna’s laugh was the same mocking guffaw he’d been using to laugh at his brother’s awkwardness since he was old enough to understand that Madara didn’t function like everyone else. It tilted his head back and away, body flinching by habit and bracing for the impact of the punch he was surely about to receive to the shoulder.

A noise from the porch caught both of their attentions before the blow could land, however.

“Best two out of three!” Hashirama cried as they looked over. He appeared to have dragged one of the small tables out between his chair and Touka’s, each with one arm raised and elbows braced on top. Touka’s sleeve was rolled up to expose the bulge of her muscles as she flexed them, celebrating her victory over what had obviously been a successful round of arm wrestling.

Madara watched them start a second round but did not get to see the results. He was distracted once more by a plaintive yelp but a few feet from himself. When he blinked around all that remained of Izuna was a slight ripple on the surface the pond.

His brother reappeared only moments later with an unholy scream, freezing water spraying in all directions.

“COLD! COLD!”

From the porch, the others were all looking over at them now to see what was going on. Madara tilted his head and blinked down at Izuna in astonishment. Now was hardly the time for a swim.

“Whatever possessed you to jump in the water?” he asked. “I was kidding about dunking you.” Mostly.

“It was an accident!” Izuna cried as he scrambled back out, shaking from head to toe.

“You…walked in there by accident?”

“Shut up! I was distracted!”

“What could possibly have distracted you that much? You knew perfectly well that pond was there.” With his backyard shaped as a perfect replica of the one they’d grown up playing in, he _should_ have known it was there.

Izuna gulped as he looked over towards the house, flushing when he saw everyone was looking and looking down at his feet instead. He said something but his words were so quiet and jumbled that not a single one could be properly made out.

“Quit mumbling,” Madara admonished him.

“Touka,” he admittedly reluctantly. “I was looking at Touka.”

He managed to hold it in for perhaps fifteen seconds. Then Madara realized he had no good reason not to take pleasure at his brother’s expense and promptly began to howl with laughter, tossing his head back and holding his stomach in case he actually split at the seams the way it felt like he might. What goes around comes around and now it was _his_ turn to mock Izuna for _his_ impossible crush. It was just too good to be true.

The party only lasted about half an hour more after Izuna embarrassing himself. He bravely tried to act as though his winter dip hadn’t affected him but they could all see that he badly needed to go warm up in the tub or something. Kindly, they all decided to leave him be.

Madara put Kagami down for the night when they got home, stroking the bouncy curls growing in and tapping out sweet phrases on his skin in the silent shinobi code. When he came back out Tobirama had made hot chocolate for them both and he joined his partner on the sofa for a warm cup before it was bedtime for themselves as well. Tomorrow’s schedule was packed solid with meetings for them both, which was going to be interesting considering their usual babysitters for Kagami would also be at those same meetings. It was looking like their little man would be getting an early introduction to village politics.

“Tonight was a good idea,” Tobirama murmured as he settled deeper in to Madara’s side. “I’m glad you thought of it.” Swelling with pride, Madara lifted an arm for Tobirama to slip under.

“Hm.” It still amazed him every time they found themselves in a position like this, that Tobirama had chosen _him_. What had he ever done in this life or any others to deserve what he had here in their peaceful, happy home? “Perhaps once this hogwash about ‘the danger of other villages’ the council keeps going on about has been sorted…we could…spend a similar evening on our own.”

“You know that you don’t have to take me on dates, right?”

“But-!” Tobirama gave him a startled look for his urgent tone and Madara didn’t even realize he was holding his partner tighter in his earnestness. “Hashirama says you should always make sure your other half feels appreciated and he said dates were a good way to do that! I’ll think of something better, I promise!”

His partner looked surprised when he assumed a thoughtful expression but Madara ignored that for a moment, already disappearing inside his own head. If he didn’t want to go out to dinner, surely there were other dates they could go on. Madara just had to think of some ideas. There was no way he was allowing even the slightest chance of ruining what they had over something so silly as forgetting to make sure Tobirama knew how cared for and appreciated he was.

Concentrated though he was, Madara’s thought process was derailed when Tobirama took hold of his chin and forced his face around to pull him in to a heated kiss. A startled groan escaped him and trailed off in to a low keen as he gave in. Whatever thoughts had just been in his head were happily abandoned in an instant as he gave himself over entirely to the sensations suddenly overwhelming him. His heart pounded in his chest, his lungs forgot what it was to breathe, and his fingers found their way upwards to wind themselves in to short white locks without any direction from his brain.

With Tobirama already tucked under one arm it was easy for the younger man to press himself bodily in to Madara’s side, pushing the older man deeper in to the corner of the sofa until Madara was ready to have an aneurysm when he thought for just a moment that his partner meant to crawl right up in to his lap.

Although he thought he’d deflected pretty well at the time, Izuna had hit the nail on the head rather neatly with his question earlier. He and Tobirama _hadn’t_ explored anything beyond a few kisses yet. Neither of them had made any obvious overtures in that direction and they hadn’t talked about it either. Madara was divided on the issue, himself. While there was a part of him that was more than eager for that next step there was also another part of him that was enjoying the sweetness of the beginning, the innocence of their kisses and the knowledge that the only reason behind the affection was just that: to show affection.

Not to say that he was complaining about the two or three times Tobirama had pressed him in to the wall when a simple kiss had turned in to something of an entirely different variety, curling his toes and sending heat shooting through his belly. No, he had absolutely no complaints about those kisses. What he did have a complaint about was that Tobirama was pulling away and he wasn’t done yet, damn it.

“Get back here,” he grumbled. His partner chuckled, dipping his head to place one more glancing kiss on Madara’s lips before darting away again before he could even appreciate the taste of it.

“Let me drink my cocoa, greedy fiend,” Tobirama admonished him without even trying to hide the smile on his face.

Madara huffed and reached for his own cup, not nearly as upset as he was trying to appear. If Tobirama wanted kisses then he would get kisses. If he wanted his cocoa then he could have his cocoa. Hell, if he said he wanted a man’s head on a stick Madara would have swanned out of the house to kill a man already. After they were finished their drinks Tobirama murmured that they should go to bed now and Madara was more than happy to let him have that too.

They took turns in the bathroom performing their nightly ablutions, each using those few moments alone in the bedroom to change. Madara flopped down on top of the covers once he was wearing his nightclothes and squirmed around until he could generally be said to be underneath them. A minute later Tobirama came out of the bathroom and straightened the blankets before slipping under them himself. He had certain quirks – when he wasn’t so exhausted he was nearly unconscious on his feet – and one of them was that his blankets _had_ to be straightened before bed each and every night. Madara thought it was adorable.

Instead of draping himself with his partner’s limbs like he usually did, Tobirama pushed at Madara until he had rolled on to his back. Confused but curious, Madara let him. His heartrate picked up all over again when the younger man placed a head on his chest and wound their legs together, settling down until they were so closely cuddled together he wondered if they might have difficulty separating in the morning.

But what else was new.

Madara smiled at Tobirama’s sleepy hum, enjoying the way it reverberated through his own chest, then let out a pleased little trill when the other man tilted his head up for one more kiss. That would be his goodnight kiss, one of the ones he treasured the most.

It seemed as though only moments later Tobirama was asleep, snuffling away on Madara’s chest and leaving him to stare in wide-eyed wonder. He wondered sometimes if he himself had changed in any way since the moment he finally realized he was in love with this man. Had anyone else noticed something different about him? He couldn’t say. All he knew were the changes he had noticed in the small moments that filled his days – and he could say without hesitation that he wouldn’t change a single one of them. Not for anything.


	11. Chapter 11

Morning was usually one of Madara’s favorite times of the day. For instance, the morning after Izuna’s party had been particularly nice. Waking up to find that for once Tobirama hadn’t moved them about in their sleep and was still curled up on his chest had been a special delight. Most other mornings were quite similar in pattern, opening his eyes to find the man he loved held in his arms and smiling in his sleep.

Considering the way he was being woken up now, just barely past noon, he may have just found a new favorite.

They hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the couch. Really Madara didn’t even remember closing his eyes. The last thing he could recall was listening to Tobirama’s voice begin to slur as they discussed something that wasn’t coming to mind right at the moment. Now he was being woken from an impromptu accidental nap by lips trailing along his jawline and a large palm sliding up his chest.

A quiet rumbling laugh came from just above him.

“I know you’re awake,” Tobirama’s voice teased him. Madara huffed and tried not to smile.

“Well I wouldn’t be if someone hadn’t decided all on his own that naptime was over.”

“I can think of better things to be doing than napping on the couch.”

Eyes snapping open at the tone that invitation had been spoken in, Madara closed them again only moments later as soft lips finally met with his own. Whatever reply he’d been about to make was choked down in favor of kissing back, nearly melting in to the couch arm his head was resting on. The day he turned this down was the day he had officially gone insane. Tobirama kissed him harder, his tongue darting out to lick Madara’s bottom lip and drink down the whimper he got in response.

With his head already spinning Madara struggled to remember to breathe. The palm resting on his chest slid upwards to drag blunt nails along his clavicle, making him shudder and squirm. He gasped in to Tobirama’s mouth when he felt the younger man crawling up his body, legs settling on either side of his hips so that his partner was sitting astride his lap.

He had hardly dared to dream of this, could barely believe it was happening right now. Really he’d just been expecting a few kisses and nothing more. When the hand scratching near his neck circled around behind his head to set him at a better angle he whimpered again, his own hands finally getting with the program enough to settle on Tobirama’s hips. They didn’t stay still for long though, rubbing up and down his partner’s sides in a gentle caress. He could never get enough of touching this man in any way he could – something he could tell that Tobirama very much did not mind, by the way he purred and kissed him even harder.

Nothing else existed for him at that moment but for the man in his lap. As he often did in the moments when he found himself getting lost in Tobirama, Madara thought absently to himself that he hoped reality never returned. He would be perfectly happy to live out the rest of his life losing himself in Tobirama’s kisses and the way his skin tingled under pale white fingers.

Reality, however, had a way of barging back in and demanding attention in the loudest ways possible. Today it was a loud cry from a mere three feet to the left of his head. Both Madara and Tobirama twitched with shock, pulling apart from each other at lightning speed to whip their heads around and inspect the source of the noise. Kagami looked back at them from where he was sitting in his play pen, lower lip jutting out and dark eyes staring seemingly straight in to their hearts as though to ask why they weren’t paying him any attention.

“Oops.” Madara could feel his face heating up. Poor Kagami! He hoped when the boy got older he wouldn’t remember this. Did babies form memories this young? He didn’t want the boy’s first recollection to be of his father’s kissing on the couch in front of him!

Still perched across his hips, although now he was sitting up straight Tobirama tilted his head, looking slowly between the baby and the man he was on top of.

“I wonder if Aniki would like to babysit,” he mused. Madara swallowed thickly.

“He’s in a conference with the Shimura Clan Head.” Neither of them mentioned how badly his voice was shaking. Tobirama’s eyes locked on to his and he lifted one eyebrow.

“Do you think Izuna is busy?”

“No,” Madara breathed. “I believe he had plans to stay in for the day.”

“Good.”

Tobirama was up off his lap immediately, lifting Kagami out of the play pen while Madara scrambled off the couch and lurched in to the kitchen to grab a prepared bottle, thanking kami they had started the habit of making them ahead of time. When he made it back to the living room Tobirama took his arm and they disappeared from their home with a mere flicker, reappearing outside Izuna’s front door.

Without even knocking the two men let themselves in, both enjoying a quick moment of amusement when they saw their unwitting host leap two feet in the air. Obviously he hadn’t been expecting their intrusion right in the middle of whatever he’d been working on. It looked suspiciously like he was making some sort of art craft at the table. Whatever it was it wasn’t important at the moment.

“We need you to babysit,” Madara announced gruffly as Tobirama all but shoved Kagami in to Izuna’s arms.

“Uh…”

“It’s important,” Tobirama assured him. Madara nodded from where he was flinging the bottle inside the fridge, not looking where it landed and not caring in the slightest.

“Wait…” Izuna held Kagami in front of himself a little awkwardly, supporting him under the arms as he watched the other two men head for the door again. “What’s going on?”

“Important!” Madara shouted back as he hurried out. Tobirama gave an impertinent little wave and then they were flickering back to their own home, this time alone.

They arrived in their bedroom and Madara had less than a second to bite his lip and bolster his confidence before Tobirama took his mouth in a kiss that sent fire straight down his spine. Had he ever mentioned that this man knew just how to kiss him? Because he did. He knew just how to make Madara’s toes curl up in pleasure with nothing but lips and tongue.

His tongue certainly came in to play now as the younger man licked his way in to Madara’s mouth, arms circling his neck and holding on tight. Their legs entwined as he stepped closer, so close it was nearly impossible to keep balance. Madara’s quiet cry as they tumbled backwards turned in to a breathless puff when Tobirama landed on his chest, laughing at their awkward landing. While he tried to catch his breath Tobirama crawled over him to straddle his lap like he had been before. Only this time Madara could feel something a little different.

“Oh sweet kami,” he whispered, closing his eyes and burying his face in his partner’s neck. Tobirama rotated his hips to grind their erections together, obviously in an attempt to give him a heart attack.

Yet, strangely, his heart pounded harder for the way he heard his name whispered softly in to his ear a moment later and for the simple delight of being able to feel how Tobirama’s heart was matching the skipping rhythm of his own. It was incredible to feel the proof of how he was affecting the other and know that he wasn’t the only one excited by this unexpected turn of events.

Madara wasn’t really sure how his shirt got undone. He knew his love had clever fingers and that he himself was rather distractible but it still surprised him when suddenly there were hands on his bare skin tracing the lines of his abdomen. He shuddered under the touch even as he wormed his own hands between them to untie Tobirama’s obi. If _he_ could touch then Madara could touch too. It was only fair. Of course, his own touches were far more star-struck, almost hesitant as he explored the pale skin he would never admit to fantasizing about.

It became almost a game of reciprocity. Tobirama rewarded his touches by reaching up to trace a thumb across one of his nipples, to which Madara responded by arching his own back and scratching his nails down Tobirama’s back. The younger man ground his hips down a second time and in turn Madara nipped at his bottom lip.

The game could only go on for so much time, however, before one of them reached for the other’s trousers. Madara was almost shaking by the time they were both naked, although whether it was from anticipation, nerves, or excitement was not something he was willing to fess up to. Possibly a combination of all three but that was his own business. Either way he was hardly capable of giving a coherent answer right then even if only asked what his own name was. His entire brain had shut down the moment his better half had pressed their bare skin together.

Quiet choked noises filled what little air was left between them as Madara gathered his courage and rolled them, pressing the other man in to the sheets with his weight and doing his best to leave him as breathless as he so often felt himself.

“Nightstand,” Tobirama gasped out. “Top drawer.”

Madara looked to the side with a slightly baffled look. They were _busy_. What could he possibly want right then that couldn’t wait for later?

He understood as soon as he leaned over and opened the drawer. A small tube of lubricant rolled forward and presented itself and Madara wondered if it was possible to have heart failure from being too aroused too suddenly. That didn’t stop his hand from snatching up the offering and turning back to fall upon Tobirama with frantic kisses. His partner caught him with a smile and returned the affections with obvious enthusiasm even as he bent his knees and braced his feet on the mattress.

“I’m all yours, tiger,” he said with a confident grin. Madara huffed and scowled, hoping it distracted from the blush glowing on his cheeks.

“I’m not a tiger,” he muttered. His fingers fumbled with the lubricant, trying not to accidentally squirt a massive puddle out on to his hand. Luckily he managed to acquire only a proper amount.

“No? Ah well. I’m still all yours.”

From the way Tobirama was smirking he could tell his partner knew exactly how flustered he was by those words. Madara shut him up by reaching down and stroking across his entrance with slick fingers, spreading the lubricant and preparing the way to press just the tip of a single finger inside. He kept his eyes on Tobirama’s face to gauge his reaction, venturing a little farther in and swallowing harshly for the sensation of how warm and tight he felt inside. Just the thought of sinking in to him properly, being one with the man he loved, had him close to passing out from a mixture of excitement and heart-melting happiness.

Every time he thought he couldn’t possibly be any happier the man beneath him blew straight through his expectations. He’d never been so delighted to be proved wrong.

Madara took his time spreading Tobirama’s entrance open. The last thing he wanted was to hurt the man despite his obvious impatience for the proceedings. His lover bucked and pushed back against his fingers, silently encouraging him to go deeper, faster, and not afraid to show his appreciation with broken gasps and garbled strings of disconnected syllables. It was both fascinating and arousing to watch him and it only made Madara glad that the other didn’t seem to have the concentration to return any touches beyond clutching at his shoulders. He feared he wouldn’t last otherwise.

When he removed his fingers at last and reached over for a little more lubricant his partner fixed him in place with a look hot enough to melt iron.

“ _Finally_ ,” the younger man whispered. Madara huffed.

“Well excuse me for caring about your wellbeing.”

“I’m hardly going to break if you get a little rough.” That Tobirama managed to have the wherewithal to wink at him boggled Madara a little.

He still shivered at the implications of that as he grumbled, “You deserve nice things.” He certainly didn’t expect Tobirama to pull him down and whisper intimately in his ear.

“I would consider it nice to have you inside me now.”

Madara needed little more convincing than that. The undoubtedly embarrassing noise clawing its way up his throat was bitten back as his hands tucked underneath Tobirama’s knees and lifted them to wind around his hips. His lover arched and caught his gaze, unwilling to let him go. He couldn’t have looked away if he tried but didn’t truly mind; he didn’t really want to anyway.

Pressing in to Tobirama felt a lot like coming home, like finding something he hadn’t known was missing from his life until he found it. The immediate sense of _I belong here_ was so overwhelming he tried to close his eyes – but couldn’t. The red gaze below him held him captive still, watching his every reaction and in return allowing him a glimpse in to their own depths. It was easy to see Tobirama felt the same, though that didn’t help at all with his inability to reign in his racing heart.

Though it took him a moment to gather his strength Madara did manage to pull away, rocking his hips back until only the head of him remained inside and then quickly sinking back in when the thought of leaving entirely was too abhorrent to even consider.

Sex as Madara had known it in the past was a perfunctory thing, a momentary distraction over with as quickly as possible and indulged in only to satisfy a temporary need. This was different. With Tobirama it wasn’t just sex, it was making love. Until now he’d thought the difference between the two existed only in romance novel clichés but that was before he’d fallen hopelessly in love.  Now everything was different, some in obvious ways and others more subtle.

Most obvious was the emotions choking his lungs and burning in his veins. How was it possible for one human to feel so much and not fly to pieces? It was beyond him. Less obvious was the rhythm of his movements. Gone was the frantic rutting of distant fucking. Their hips rolled together in long smooth motions, sliding out only because it was necessary and sinking back in with relief each time, coming home again and again and again until his mind and body prayed together for this moment to last forever. Madara hitched Tobirama’s legs up higher, searching for a deeper angle just to watch him gasp and quake when his prostate was struck.

That sinful noise was the beginning of both their ends. Having found that hidden spot Madara kept his angle and tried to aim for there with every roll of his hips. Within moments he had Tobirama keening and clinging to his arms in desperation, lips parted and eyes finally falling closed as the pleasure built. Honestly Madara was a little surprised he’d lasted this long himself, although he was hardly complaining. Still, just by watching his partner slowly fall to pieces he knew that neither of them had long left.

His lover gasped against him when he leaned down to take his mouth in a searing kiss, trying to say without words everything he was feeling. Even if he could have articulated them properly right then he wouldn’t have known what words to use so he let their bodies communicate for him instead. Tobirama’s hands released his arms only to wrap around his neck and hold him in place.

“ _Shit_ don’t stop,” the younger man breathed.

“Hng!” Madara pressed their foreheads together, breathing each other’s air and refusing to allow his hips to slow their rhythm. The next time he managed to strike true he shivered at the sound of his partner’s whimper.

“Madara!” Tobirama’s body was tensing under him and he understood what that meant, even if it still felt like it was happening too soon. “Nn! I lo– ah!”

Feeling the tension gathering at the base of his own spine, Madara could take it no more. The edge was too close for them both and more than anything else he wanted them both to fall over it together. Kami but he wanted to love this man forever, spend the rest of his life earning the same in return. Maybe someday he would have the words to communicate that but for now all he had was the hand that he wriggled in between their bodies to reach down and grasp the neglected erection bobbing against their stomachs.

“Hah!” Tobirama’s arms held him tighter and Madara instinctively added an extra snap in to his hips.

“Hng,” he gurgled out again, throat working feverishly to try and say something, anything. “Tobirama…my Tobirama…”

His partner was obviously having the same trouble, impending orgasm stealing from him the ability to speak. Tobirama curled upward as best he could, pressing their foreheads tighter together as he finally forced out just a few words.

“I love you.”

If exclamation marks had a verbal equivalent, Madara would have shouted it right then. Whatever noise that escape certainly wasn’t any word he had ever heard before but it was loud, desperate, and more perfervid than any sound he had ever made before. Those words, spoken as they were in such heartfelt desperation, hit him like a fist to the gut. His climax hit him before he could stop it, only a single split second before he felt Tobirama clamping down around him as the other man reached his own peak. Their ringing shouts merged together and nearly became one sound which echoed throughout the entire house

However long it took, when Madara came back to himself his entire body was quaking with the force of the orgasm which had just been wrung out of him. Every muscle in his body trembled and it was a miracle he was still managing to support himself over the man below him without collapsing like wet paper. He did allow his shoulders to sag, dropping his head down to rest itself against Tobirama’s collarbone. The scent of sandalwood and sweat filled his senses and he breathed it in with huge gulps in an effort to ground himself to reality. When Tobirama chuckled weakly Madara wondered where he had even found the energy to do so.

Only after a quick mental pep talk was he able to force his shaking arms to lift him back up, grinning in tired surprise when Tobirama managed to sneak in a quick kiss as their faces passed each other. Once he’d managed to sit up he simply held still for a few seconds, caught in Tobirama’s gaze again. Madara looked away with a slightly embarrassed huff, eyes darting back and forth until he spotted his own shirt, still hanging off the edge of the bed within easy reach.

Tobirama shuddered and moaned quietly when Madara pulled away from him, limbs twitching. Then he looked down with one brow quirked curiously when he felt a soft touch at his now leaking entrance.

“I can do that myself, you know,” he pointed out. His voice was still a little breathless and Madara absolutely was not preening over it.

“No I want to.” Madara dabbed gently and made short swipes, making a mental note to wash this shirt himself and not toss it in with the rest of the laundry. “You deserve to rest.”

“Oh I see,” his partner murmured with a smile.

“Shut up.”

Tobirama huffed out a quiet laugh but lay back and let him do as he wished. He was just trying to be solicitous; there was nothing wrong with that! Anyone could see that Tobirama deserved all the best things and gentle touches and to be taken care of. Madara was just doing was he was supposed to do.

Supposed to or not, however, the aftercare sapped away the last of his energy reserves. Madara tossed the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side without looking and peered sleepily down at his lover, eyes half shut and a slack smile hovering on his lips. Tobirama reached up to trace lazy lines along his forearms where they had dropped in to his own lap.

“Another nap, perhaps? Izuna won’t exactly be expecting us back so soon.” When Madara nodded weakly the younger man opened his arms in invitation. “Come here then.”

It was more of a relief than he could have said to collapse back down in to his partner’s arms. Always before it had been him which held the other when they fell asleep together but now for the first time he cuddled himself in to Tobirama’s embrace – and wondered if he would ever find the strength to crawl back out. Warm and comfortable, he felt like he understood now why Tobirama never wanted to get out of bed in the mornings.

Without opening eyes which he didn’t remember closing, Madara tilted his head up and let out a quiet whine until Tobirama graced him with one last kiss. Just because it was the middle of the day didn’t mean he was willing to go to bed without his goodnight kiss. Once he had that he tucked his head back down and buried his face in a pale neck, listening to his lover’s pulse and letting the steady sound of it help him drift away from reality.

He hadn’t planned to fall asleep on the couch, he hadn’t meant for any of these events to happen, but he was happy that they did. None of the private imaginings he had dreamed up had come even close to the reality that was making love to the man holding him and Madara was the very opposite of disappointed. Honestly the past half year of his life had been so far out of plan he could barely keep up from day to day. But as he sank rapidly down in to sleep Madara reflected that each new change had only brought him more happiness. And he was quite okay with that.


	12. Chapter 12

Big brothers the world over would agree that there were certain perks to being the older child. Personally, Madara’s favorite perk was the ability to end arguments by throwing around his weight as clan Head and telling the younger man that he knew better because he’d been born first.

Such was the case today. At first he’d been lost as to what he was supposed to do with a meeting scheduled for midmorning and four kids plus his own running around the house. As important figures in the founding of their village, it was expected that both he and Tobirama would be present at the meeting to greet representatives from a distant clan who were considering joining them in their mission towards peace. The situation had seemed impossible until Tobirama asked what his brother was doing.

Izuna wasn’t exactly happy to have four children and a baby dumped in his lap without warning. He’d squawked about ruined plans and yelled that they couldn’t just keep throwing Kagami in his face whenever they felt like it. Madara blatantly ignored him, relieved that he hadn’t seemed to realize yet why they had left Kagami with him in such a hurry the first time – and hoping that he never did. When he turned to leave Izuna was holding the baby and trying to fend off a little boy with one foot while two girls wrapped themselves around the other. The oldest, nine year old Tsutomu, had already wandered away towards the bookshelf.

As a parting shot, Madara took great glee in cutting through Izuna’s protest by _casually_ mentioning that surely Touka would be impressed to see how responsible he was, able to take care of so many young lives at once. By the time he stepped out the front door he could hear his brother cheerfully asking what they all wanted for a snack.

Knowing that their son and other temporary wards were in at least non-deadly hands, both Madara and Tobirama allowed themselves to focus solely on the meeting as they arrived to greet their guests. The four shinobi before them were from the Takamasa clan to the east. As a gesture of good will they had instructed their guards and retainers to go enjoy themselves in the marketplace or perhaps at the training grounds to prove that they truly wished to become a part of the village they were petitioning to mesh with.  

Things went rather smoothly at first. While the Takamasa clan did not have any unique kekkei genkai like most of the clans gathering in Konohagakure seemed to, they were rather well known for their skill with pole arms, especially the yari, and such talents would be more than welcome here. Madara could already see Tobirama’s brain whirring from where he was sitting and he knew the younger man would be coming up with ways to integrate this new style of battle tactics in to the curriculum for the academy he kept dreaming about or how best to add them in to the already diverse mission roster. His love never did stop thinking for very long when there was new information to be processed.

It was the fact that he was already staring that allowed Madara to be the only one to see Tobirama’s initial reaction. One moment he was calm, considering, entirely focused on the meeting as he should be. The next his eyes had blown wide and his expression had gone from placid to hard as iron. Before anyone else even noticed anything amiss Tobirama had brought his hands together and disappeared from existence. Although Madara could not have properly described how he could tell the difference between the two, he knew his partner had used his hiraishin jutsu instead of the more common body flicker.

Dread blossomed in the pit of Madara’s stomach but he didn’t exactly have much time to let the feeling settle or even wonder where Tobirama had gone. Almost the very next instant every head in the room turned as a staggering wave of killing intent rolled across the village.

“Tobirama…” Hashirama’s voice was filled with the same mixture of shock and fear that Madara could feel rising with the dread in his belly. They met each other’s eyes across the room briefly, immediately coming to a silent agreement. On the other side of the room their guests were beginning to panic and Hashirama stepped up to reassure them that everything was fine as Madara brought his hands together. He couldn’t use hiraishin but a body flicker was just as good while they were contained within the village limits.

Pinpointing where the enormous flaring chakra signature was coming from was the difficult bit. At first he thought it might have been coming from home but when he arrived the house was empty. Yet, it still felt as though he were standing in the center of the maelstrom and the only other thing Madara could think of was Izuna, whose home lay only a few streets away.

He was there with barely another thought, battle instinct taking over and carrying him across the room to take Kagami from his partner’s clone before he had even stopped to take in the entirety of the scene around him.

Tobirama was…there were no words for it. Madara had never seen him like this. The massive amount of killing intent was coming entirely from him, though something this heavy should have taken an entire squadron to produce. His red eyes were wide, wild, and even his body language spoke of something nearly animalistic in its rage. The expression on his face was twisted in to a rictus of such anger and violation that he seemed like another person entirely.

Madara couldn’t stop staring, enraptured.

The clone beside him shifted its stance, including him in the area of protection it had set around the children all huddled in to one corner. Madara checked to make sure Kagami was unharmed, glanced back to be sure of the other children as well, then turned his head forward again and watched in unbridled awe as Tobirama decimated the team of foreign ninja filling the house.

He had no idea where these men had come from and for the moment he didn’t care. What mattered was the sprayed of blood from one man’s neck which Tobirama managed to angle perfectly so that it missed the children, or the kunai which Tobirama sent flying only to flicker forward and catch in the next second so that he could plunge it in to a woman’s heart himself. Madara was riveted by the succinctness of his lover’s movements and the way not a single motion was wasted. Every twitch of every limb had a deadly purpose: to _annihilate_ the ones who had threatened those under his care.

When it was over Tobirama stood alone in the center of the living room, blood dripping from both the weapons hands and splattered down his front. Nearly a dozen bodies lay scattered about the room in various states of disembowelment and above them Tobirama looked like a cross between triumphant warrior and bloodthirsty animal, barely sated. There was an untamed fire in his eye and thrumming energy running frantic beneath his skin when he strode across the room towards Madara. The clone turned aside, kneeling down to speak to the other children in quiet tones.

“Kagami.” Tobirama’s voice was rough, hands shedding their weapons and already reaching out as he approached. Madara let him take the child without protest.

“What happened?” he demanded.

At first Tobirama did not answer. He pulled his son tight to his chest, buried his face in soft black curls, and closed his eyes. For a few moments he simply stood still and breathed and Madara realized he was trying to anchor himself, bring himself back down from the battle high. And what a battle high it had been.

“Tobirama,” Madara whispered gently. “He’s safe now.”

“He wasn’t.”

“He is now. Thanks to you.” Reaching one hand out slowly, he threaded his fingers through his love’s hair and passed a thumb across his temple to catch a falling droplet of brilliant red.

When Tobirama lifted his head Kagami had been left with a smear of blood across one cheek, which he very carefully wiped away. Madara looked on with his heart fluttering inside his chest.

“What happened?” he asked again. Before his partner could answer, however, something else occurred to him. “Where is Izuna?’

As though in answer, the door swung open almost as soon as the words had left his mouth. Izuna strolled inside as casually as though he’d been out for a simple Sunday stroll, head turned to speak over his shoulder.

“No it’s fine, I left Tsutomu in charge. Precocious kid, that one. Besides I was only gone for ten minutes, what could they possibly have…done…oh sweet mother of chakra…”

Just inside the doorway he paused, having stumbled over a piece of dismembered corpse. His head snapped forward to slowly look around and take in the state of his living room turned battle ground. Madara could see his throat bobbing in a horrified gulp all the way from where he stood at the opposite side of the room. When Izuna spotted Tobirama and the rekindling fire in his expression he backpedaled, only to have his retreat hindered when he bumped in to Touka who was coming in through the door behind him.

A low whistle escaped the Senju woman, managing to sound both impressed and wary. She took her time eyeing each body in turn as though grading them all on the violence of their method of death. Then she looked up to her cousin, saw the murder in his eyes, and promptly spun about to tiptoe towards the door.

“Stop.” Tobirama’s voice was a deadly whisper but it froze Touka in place. Madara accepted Kagami in to his arms again without question. Whatever the other had in mind for Izuna was surely too good for him. How _dare_ he place their son in such danger? How _dare_ he be so neglectful? “Where. Were. You.”

“I was only gone for, like, ten minutes and–”

“That was not my question,” Tobirama cut him off with a snarl. “I asked you where you were, Uchiha.”

The softness of his footsteps was in direct contrast to the hardness in his face as he slowly prowled across the room towards his prey. Izuna shivered but stood strong in the face of impending death.

“I thought that Lady Touka might wish to come see the adorable drawings the kids were making so I left Tsutomu in charge and went to invite her over.”

“You left my child vulnerable to attack so you could go make calf eyes at my cousin.” Each word was the crack of a whip, ice cold and sharp, and Madara was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to find that attractive. He did anyway.

“How was I supposed to know there’d be an attack?”

“And when you felt my response, as I’m certain you must have, you didn’t think to come back and see what might have caused it?” Izuna gave a helpless shrug, just a touch too flippant for the seriousness of the situation.

“I dunno I figured you two were fighting or something. Look, it’s not my fault okay?”

When Tobirama’s hand flashed through the air, Madara’s heart stopped for a single moment. The scent of blood hung heavy in the air and even an Inuzuka would not have noticed just a few more droplets if they were to come seeping out of his brother’s throat. He calmed again, however, when he saw the way Izuna’s head jerked ever so slightly to one side and the absolutely dumbfounded expression on his face.

Livid as he was, Tobirama didn’t even wait for Izuna to figure out how the hell to react to what had just happened. He simply turned and gestured to his clone, who began to herd the children outside, then looked questioningly at Madara. Of course, Madara had absolutely no intention of staying behind. He carefully picked his way around the corpses, absently drawing a kunai and sliding it down in to the throat of one who looked like he might have still been twitching. Deciding his brother could clean that up too, he left the kunai behind and followed along on the heels of his ragtag bunch of children.

One of the young Uchiha girls was crying quietly in to the shoulder of Tobirama’s clone and the younger boy was holding to his hand for dear life, eyes wide and staring. Tsutomu, on the other hand, was walking alongside the real Tobirama with stars in his eyes and a worshipful look on his face. Madara frowned at him and shooed him towards the others.

In an uncharacteristic display of restraint – which he was a little proud of, to be honest – Madara was able to wait until they all made it back home before asking any questions. Tobirama kept his clone and sent it in to Kagami’s bedroom with the four children they were supposed to be watching, instructing it to fetch blankets and hot drinks and perhaps a cheerful story book to read. Then the two of them were free to retreat to their own room and carefully close the door behind them.

“So…you slapped him.” Madara winced as soon as he’d said it. Could he not think of a more tactful way to ask about it? Had he been born with an ounce of tact he would have been a dangerous man indeed. Luckily Tobirama simply snorted and crossed his arms.

“Would you have preferred me to bleed him like a stuck pig?”

“He would have deserved it,” Madara growled. When Tobirama raised an eyebrow he flushed and waved a hand through the air as through trying to push his words aside. “Quiet, Senju. I’m allowed to be angry too. But I am curious; why did you only slap him? I would have expected something much more violent.”

“If I stabbed him he would learn nothing. Izuna and I’s history is fraught with violence; it’s something he almost expects from me at this point.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug which would almost have seemed casual but for the tension that lingered in them still. “So I hit him where it hurt instead. Perhaps he will remember being humiliated by a simple slap in front of Touka more so than a plain old punch in the nose.”

Madara turned that over in his mind a few times before a wolfish smile slowly took over his features. What an _excellent_ idea. How lucky he was to be with someone so smart. And how lucky they both were that, as Izuna’s older brother, he knew all of the idiot’s weak spots and all the best ways to get under his skin. There were, as he’d been thinking only hours earlier, certain perks to being the eldest child. If Izuna thought that either of them were going to let the matter drop with a simple slap and leaving the clean up to him then he had another thing coming. No, this called for actions much more serious and if humiliation was the game they were playing he almost couldn’t wait to get started.

Any excuse to poke fun at his brother was a good one but revenge? Twice as sweet.

Nearly purring with approval, Madara shuffled forward until he was so close to Tobirama that his clothes began to soak in the blood drying on the younger man’s front. His partner huffed out an amused sound and wrapped both arms around his neck to pull him in closer.

“Why can I not stay angry around you?” Tobirama murmured in to his neck. “I wasn’t even angry _at_ you.”

“Hmph. I should hope not. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“This time, perhaps.”

“Shut it!” Madara squirmed, growling when Tobirama only hugged him tighter. “Here I am trying to make you feel better and now you’re making fun of me! Rude! Boorish! See if I ever comfort you again!”

Despite the fact that he was sure he failed, Madara did make a concerted effort to hide the way he was suddenly melting on the inside when Tobirama began to laugh. Damn him for being able to produce such a heart-warming sound without any warning at all for the innocent bystander. No matter how he wriggled his lover refused to let him go until finally he gave up and grumbled as Tobirama graced him with a few kisses across one cheek that he pretended not to enjoy. Tobirama didn’t seem terribly fooled.

“Oh shush,” he said, moving his kisses to Madara’s lips.

“ _You_ shush.” It was slightly frustrating that he couldn’t cross his arms when they were already busy with six feet of pale Senju. He made do with a pout. Tobirama placed a delicate kiss on the tip of his protruding lip.

“We should go check on the kids. I get the feeling not all of them took their first exposure to battle as well as Tsutomu did.”

Madara narrowed his eyes and tightened his hold. “I think he enjoyed watching you a bit too much,” he growled.

“Please tell me you’re not jealous of a nine-year-old child.”

“I’m _not_ jealous!” He protested hotly. “And even if I _was_ it wouldn’t matter; he’s got no chance because you’re already _mine_. And no one else’s.”

Tobirama gave him that fond smile of his, edged with poorly contained laughter, and Madara drew breath to tell the man exactly what he thought about being laughed at for being _nice_ and _thoughtful_. He paused before a single word could slip out, both of their heads turning at the sound of Hashirama’s voice from the front room.

He didn’t stay very long but it was an informative visit nonetheless. Both of them were pleased to know the reason behind the attack – and _very_ pleased to be given a say in the perpetrators’ fates. It turned out that Hashirama had experienced his own bout of grumpiness when he discovered that the Takamasa clan had never had any true intentions of joining the peace of their village. They had come here with only one purpose: to take revenge upon the Uchiha clan by striking at their vulnerable youth. Evidently they had heard Madara speaking of his son and the others he often looked after and saw a golden opportunity. The guards they had ordered to tour the village as a ‘show of trust’ had in fact been under instructions to seek out the children and either kill or capture them.

Luckily for all present, Tobirama’s senses were always keenly focused on his loved ones. Panic was quite easy to sense even in the underdeveloped signature of a child.

After Hashirama left again Madara sighed and wrapped an arm around the tall man snuggling in to his side.

“We really should go check on the kids,” Tobirama murmured.

“Technically you’re already with them.”

“But you aren’t.” Tobirama snuggled in a little deeper. “They need you too.”

The very idea that someone needed him as anything other than a distant figurehead to take courage from was a foreign idea to Madara. When he thought about it, though, he found that he liked the idea. No one had needed him since Izuna had gotten old enough to wield his own blade and make his own mistakes in life. Did Tobirama need him too? Eyeing his lover, Madara wondered if he would be able to think of a way to ask which would be subtle enough to slip by his beloved genius.

“Come on.”

“Should we bring snacks? More blankets? How do you do this?”

Panic slowly rose up in Madara as he realized he had no idea how to comfort someone who might be in shock from a traumatic event. Did he have to be soft? He wasn’t sure he could be soft enough. People always told him he was too loud; was that a bad thing?

Tobirama was biting his lower lip as he sat up and took Madara’s hand in his own.

“You’ll be fine,” was all he said before hauling the both of them up off the couch.

As he followed his partner down the hall, Madara tightened his fingers around the hand holding his own. He carefully filed away the interesting images of a blood-dripping Tobirama to bring back up later, after they had made sure all the kids were fine. For now he was going to have to give all of his concentration to the little people waiting in Kagami’s bedroom.

He had no idea what to do when they got there, of course, but if Tobirama had faith that he would be fine then Madara figured he could believe it too. His partner had already taught him so much; this was just one more thing to learn.


	13. Chapter 13

After a great deal of consideration on the subject Madara had concluded that having lots of kids in the house wasn’t entirely a bad thing every once in a while. Obviously the job of watching over them all could be stressful and it was often quite hard on his nerves whenever Tobirama wasn’t around to help him with the hard parts like cooking or cleaning or finding the last holdout during hide-and-seek. Sometimes, though, these little buggers came up with some pretty good ideas.

Madara couldn’t remember the last time he had sat down to draw something other than a rough floorplan of some manor or treasure house he was leading an infiltration for. Come to think of it, he was fairly sure he hadn’t drawn simply for the pleasure of it since he was a child and probably even then he hadn’t had colored pencils. He’d never known how fun it was! There were so many colors to choose from and with so many options he could create all sorts of wild things. Already there was a small pile of papers gathered by his elbow as he bent the full force of his concentration to the one he was currently working on.

It wasn’t as though he had much else to concentrate on, anyway. Kagami was happily chewing on his teething ring on his play mat a few feet away and all the other children had already been picked up by their parents. Each of them had taken their own drawings home with them when they left, giving Madara more room to spread out his pencils so he could choose between them more easily.

He didn’t raise his head when he heard the front door opening, although he was as happy as always for Tobirama to return home. All he needed was just a few finishing touches and he would be done so he hurried to do that instead before his partner could see what he’d made.

Predictably – and luckily – Tobirama went straight for Kagami as soon as he came in the room. His face lit up with the same smile it always did as he crouched down and pet the boy’s curls. Kagami babbled as his cheeks were pinched and when asked if he had a good day he waved his chubby arms and very seriously gurgled up at his pale guardian. Madara used these last few moments of distraction to reach for one more pencil and scribble frantically until Tobirama stood up to put both hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly.

“Hello,” he murmured, bending to press a kiss to the top of Madara’s head. “Looks like the kids had fun coloring today. Did they just leave?”

“No they left a while ago.” Madara covered the page with his arms as casually as possible and turned his face up to get a proper welcome home kiss. “So how did it go?”

The grin he got in return was nothing less than evil and it sent a thrill down Madara’s spine, settling warm and fuzzy in the pit of his stomach. He shifted surreptitiously in his seat and tried not to get lost in his own head as Tobirama absently pressed both thumbs in to his shoulders while he recounted the results of his successful day.

“You were right, of course. His face was _delightful_. I wish I’d known years ago that Izuna was afraid of snakes because his reaction when he saw the fake one was nearly enough to make me jealous of your infamous eyes.” He punctuated his statement with one more quick peck just at the corner of Madara’s temple, earning a small flush. Madara hummed and returned his own sharp grin.

“Just wait until we set up the fireworks outside in his garden!”

Izuna was perhaps the only person in the village not enjoying their methods of revenge. For the first couple of days he had tiptoed his way around every corner, obviously worried about impending violence, but Madara and Tobirama had agreed that setting up small pranks for him around the village was a much better way to go.

To be perfectly honest they weren’t all _that_ angry anymore. It wasn’t as though Izuna had purposefully endangered the kids and stepping out just for a few minutes to quickly speak to someone was something any parent or babysitter might do if they thought the children would be safe. Still, he _had_ stepped out, something _had_ gone wrong, and while it wasn’t truly his fault that didn’t stop Madara and Tobirama from wanting a bit of petty revenge on the man. One was his sibling and the other was his rival; they could hardly be blamed for finding a little joy in watching the younger Uchiha get a bucket of glitter dumped over his head.

Chuckling over the idea of their latest prank, Tobirama leaned over his shoulder to see what he was working on. Madara huffed and hunkered down over the paper, hiding it with both arms and lowering his head to let his hair cover the rest.

“Something secret?” Tobirama asked with a quirked brow.

“It’s not done.” He scowled when Tobirama grinned wider, poking at his hair as if to peek through it.

“Is that for me?”

“No! Shut up! Go away, it’s not done!”

“Alright, alright.” His partner straightened up and ruffled his hair before walking away to see what he could pull out for dinner. Madara grumbled and smoothed his hair back down, keeping an eye out for more peeking as he snagged the blue pencil.

Although he was done less than a minute later, Madara took a few extra to look over what he had made and be sure that he hadn’t forgotten anything. One more scribble to fill something in and he deemed it complete. If he said so himself, he wasn’t half bad at this stuff. He could see why the kids seemed to like doing it so much; he certainly had enjoyed it.

“I guess you can look or whatever,” he said, aiming for a casual tone. Casual lasted only so long as it took Tobirama to set down the glass of water he’d poured for himself and come over to see what he’d done. His stomach felt squirmy for some reason as he revealed his picture and watched Tobirama biting his lip. Didn’t he like it?

“Is that…us?”

“And Kagami! See, he’s there between us.” Tobirama appeared to be biting his lip even harder and it worried him a little so he explained the rest of it just to be sure. “That’s the house around us and the sun because…uh…just because! It’s bright! I tried to make Kagami’s hair curly but it didn’t come out the way I wanted it to but see, I made you blue because it’s your favorite. And I’m purple because that’s _my_ favorite.”

“Ah. And for Kagami?” For some reason Tobirama’s voice sounded a little choked.

“He doesn’t have a favorite color yet so I drew him in red for the Sharingan.” Madara squirmed in his seat again. “You don’t like it?”

Relief flooded his chest as his partner turned to him with a blinding smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I love it. Thank you.” Madara glowed.

“I can see why the children enjoy this. It’s fun! I’ve never drawn anything with colored pencils before.”

“I can keep this, right?”

Near to exploding with pride, Madara just nodded his head without saying anything. Words wouldn’t come to him right then and he had no idea how to say how touched he was that Tobirama would want to keep something he had made. So instead he tucked his head down and began to gather the pencils back in to their box to be put away. He didn’t look up to see what Tobirama was doing behind him until he’d cleaned up all the pencils and stacked all the used pieces of paper together neatly.

When he did turn around he almost fumbled out of his chair. Tobirama had hung his drawing on the fridge! Where anyone who came in to the kitchen would be able to see it right away! On the one hand he was flattered that it was so well received but on the other hand he wasn’t sure if he wanted to share it with everyone else. It was a gift. It was private.

His partner seemed to notice his internal struggle and tilted his fluffy head.

“Madara? If you don’t want it there I could keep it somewhere else.”

“It’s yours,” Madara huffed, eyes darting around the room to look at anything else. “You do whatever you want with it.”

“Hm. Would you mind if I hung it in the bedroom?”

At those words he lost the fight he’d been having with his face, trying to beat down the blush which was trying to take over his features. He could feel the heat of it creeping up his cheeks but lifted his chin with dignity anyway.

“Acceptable, I suppose.”

He said nothing else as Tobirama retrieved the drawing and disappeared down the hall. By the time his partner returned he had settled himself on the floor beside Kagami to play with the baby. He helped the boy try to stand up on shaky legs and told him all about how fast he would run once he had grown, how strong he would be. Kagami babbled nonsensically and lifted one foot, only to go crashing down on to his bottom.

According to Tobirama their little man would be starting to walk soon and learning to talk as well. Madara wasn’t sure if he was ready to be done with this stage. Kagami had terrified him at first, a helpless infant who relied entirely upon him for absolutely everything when he hadn’t known how to do anything. Over the past few months, however, he’d learned so much that now he was sad to see his baby growing up. Before he knew it the boy would be learning how to hold his first kunai and the thought of it left him strangely morose.

“We could always talk about adopting another, if you’re so worried about him growing up.”

“Do you read minds now?” Madara grumbled as he leaned over to wipe a bit of drool from the baby’s face. “And here I thought you were a Senju, not a Yamanaka.”

“You were fiddling with his toes and moping. It wasn’t that hard of a deduction.” Tobirama winked at him, then turned around to start preparing whatever it was he’d pulled out to cook. Cooking still wasn’t one of Madara’s best skills. It was hard for him to learn with Tobirama there being all distracting and warm and smiling and it just wasn’t his thing, alright? Not everyone had to be a good cook.

Turning back to the child he was entertaining, Madara said, “You want another?”

“Perhaps. I’ve always wanted some of my own.”

“You _have_ one of your own,” he muttered. There was a pause in the sounds behind him, then he jumped when Tobirama suddenly appeared at his shoulder, sinking down on to the kitchen floor to sit behind him and lean forward against his back.

“You’re right. I do.” The younger man reached over his shoulder to play with Kagami’s curls, tugging them out and letting them spring back in to place. “And what about you? Do you think you might want another little one once Kagami’s grown up a bit?”

A small part of him marveled that they were even having this conversation. His lover seemed so sure that they would be together long enough to consider raising another child together yet didn’t appear phased by that thought at all. Madara wondered when he had even started to think of them both as Kagami’s fathers – and why it felt so right to do so.

“No,” he responded eventually. “Kagami is enough. I like our family how it is.”

“Our family, huh?” Tobirama rested a chin on his shoulder and Madara realized what he’d just said.

“What of it?” he asked defensively. “Two adults living together and raising a child. That’s the very _definition_ of a family!” His partner laughed.

“I didn’t say anything against it. Calm down, you.”

Madara harrumphed.

“Speaking of families…”

“Who was talking about families!? Go away!”

“Did I not just tell you to calm down?” Madara subsided, muttering under his breath, and Tobirama continued. “The new year is coming up soon. Do you and Izuna usually do anything to celebrate? Hashirama always wants us to fly paper lanterns for lost loved ones, although he usually ends up lighting one of the lanterns on fire and then we never get around to flying any of them.”

A snort escaped him. “That sounds like your dolt of a brother.”

His love gave a hum of agreement but made no other comment, which Madara thought was rather smart of him. Trying to dispute the fact that Hashirama was a cloud-headed dreamer with nothing but leaves and dreams between his ears would be a hard argument. Sure he was a strong fighter and in the privacy of his own head Madara could admit that his friend was doing a hallway decent job of running the village. But smart? He wasn’t exactly his brother in that area.

“Do you and Izuna do anything for the new year?”

“Not really. Our father didn’t allow much time for celebration while we were growing up and by the time it was just the two of us we’d never gotten in to the habit. To be honest the solstice celebrations would pass me by unnoticed if it weren’t for others making such a big deal about it.”

“Oh.” A few moments passed in which neither of them said anything. Kagami waved both arms until Madara took his hands and helped him try to stand again. When he folded and fell down with a giggle Tobirama nuzzled the back of Madara’s neck and asked, “Would you maybe want to come light some lanterns on fire with us?”

“Really?”

“Really,” Tobirama chuckled. “You’re good at lighting things on fire so I’m sure you’ll be a big help to Aniki.”

“Hey!”

Unsurprisingly, his partner was fast enough to roll out of the way before Madara could reached back and swat him. Here he’d thought the other was inviting him to a special family thing to be sweet and then he had to go and turn it in to a tease. That was uncalled for, he thought.

Still laughing, Tobirama went back to preparing dinner. After a while he started to hum under his breath and, against his will, Madara found a smile on his face once more. He knew that tune. It was the same tune his partner had been humming on the day he met Kagami for the first time, the one he had used to quiet his screams and calm him down enough to fall back asleep. After all this time he was also able to pinpoint why it had sounded so familiar that day: it was the song his own mother had used to sing him to sleep as a child. Strange that two clans so different would sing the same songs to their children.

Leaving Kagami to play on his own for a while, Madara rose gracefully to his feet and turned to watch Tobirama’s back where he stood chopping something at the counter. That little red apron he always wore for cooking was tied around his waist, his sleeves rolled up, and there was a folded piece of parchment stuck in his back pocket that he must have brought home from the office. He looked so calmly domestic Madara could hardly compute that this was the same man he’d seen tear an enemy’s arm clean off his body.

Although he knew the sensor could feel him coming Madara still shuffled as quietly as he could until he was standing behind Tobirama, very slowly pressing his face in to the back of his neck as though expecting to be told to get off. When no such rebuke came he leaned a little more in to the solid body in front of him, a mirror image of the position they had sat in on the floor.

“Would you really let me celebrate the holidays with your family?” he asked in a low voice. Tobirama leaned back in to him and paused his humming.

“I would be honored if you and Kagami would celebrate with us. Although I feel it’s only fair to warn you ahead of time that Aniki will most definitely cry on at least one of us.” He shrugged, careful not to displace Madara. “You could even bring Izuna if you wished. Touka will be there and I’m sure we can lull him in to a false sense of security before sharing embarrassing childhood stories or something.”

“That sounds nice,” Madara said simply.

He didn’t say ‘I love you’ out loud but he was fairly sure Tobirama could hear it in his voice anyway. Neither of them had said it again since that first time but it was implied in nearly every word, every movement, and every touch. It was in the way he could see now that Tobirama was cooking his favorite meal even though the younger man wasn’t really a big fan of fried foods. It was in the way Madara had learned to make the bed by his partner’s standards even though he didn’t really see the point of it.

Closing his eyes, Madara stood still and simply smiled to himself as Tobirama went back to humming. There were quite a lot of things that went unspoken between them because both of them understood without having to muddy the water with poorly chosen words. Just as he was sure Tobirama knew how much he loved the man, Madara was also sure he knew how much their family meant to him and how happy he was they had both found their way in to his life.


	14. Chapter 14

As a surprise to absolutely no one, the new year celebration was bright with fire. Madara’s jutsu may have been as precise and controlled as ever but it was hard to stop Hashirama from bashing him on the back and redirecting the flames whenever he felt the candles weren’t being lit fast enough. Tobirama had his work cut out for him putting them all out afterwards. Although it had been Madara’s intention to grant him this one year of being able to fly at least a few lanterns, in the end not one of them had left the ground as anything but charcoal and ash. To his confusion, he still received profuse kisses of thanks once they made it home that night.

The next couple of months passed quickly despite the fact that it felt as though the entire world had hunkered down for hibernation, the people of every village staying warm and snug inside their homes. Madara and his family were no different. As the snow began to fly there was a decrease in missions, allowing them the chance to spend more time at home together. Kagami took his first steps on a cold January morning, giggling and babbling while Madara spun him in congratulatory circles and Tobirama watched them both from the floor with a look of gentle pride upon his face.

Life settled in to a quiet kind of routine. Well, as quiet as it could be for someone like Madara. He still tripped over his own clothing or accidentally flooded the kitchen sometimes. Some part of him still flinched whenever Tobirama found him in the middle of his latest disaster, waiting to see if this was the moment when the younger man would realize it was maybe a bit too much trouble being with him. Each time all he got was a fond smile and an exasperated shake of the head as Tobirama quietly set about cleaning things up.

Today had been pleasantly free of calamities so far, which Madara hoped he wasn’t jinxing just by thinking about it. Just the idea of it had him cringing as he pulled the plug out of the kitchen sink and prayed the dish water would simply drain without any weird clogs like the week before. He breathed a sigh of relief when it began to swirl down and set about drying the clean dishes piled up on a towel spread out across the counter. When he picked up Tobirama’s favorite mug, it took until it was already dry and he was stretched on his tiptoes to put it away for him to realize he was smiling mindlessly. That seemed to be happening more often lately and at this point Madara had stopped fighting it.

Sometimes, like now as he set the towel down after the last of the dishes were put away, Madara liked to sneak his head around doorways and peek in on the two people who had made his life what it was today. He liked to pretend that Tobirama couldn’t feel him there and allow his eyes a spark of chakra to commit some of these moments to memory.

Certainly the sight that met him today was more than worth memorizing. Tobirama lay on his back on the living room floor, legs bent and feet flat against the carpet. Kagami sat on his belly and leaned back against his legs, wriggling his toes while he babbled very serious sounding nonsense to the younger of his two fathers. Madara nearly melted in to the floor as he watched, creeping around the doorway as quietly as possible so as not to disturb them.

“No no,” he heard his partner saying. “It’s To-bi-ra-ma. Probably a bit too hard for a first word, eh?”

“Ga-ga-ma-ga!”

“Close. Sort of.”

Madara consciously unclenched his fists so his nails wouldn’t cut in to his palms. His chest felt too full and he thought any moment he might burst open and spread his heart all over the living room walls. What had he ever done to deserve these moments?

“Bi-ma-ga!”

“Hey, that’s pretty good! You can do it, little one. To-bi-ra-ma.”

“Oh-bi-ah-ma! Toh! Toh!” Kagami squealed and fluttered both feet. “Tobeeeeeee!” Underneath him, Tobirama chuckled until his belly bounced the child sitting on him.

“That’s one half of it, yes. One more try, To-bi-ra-ma.”

“Tobimama!”

Now only a few feet away, Madara lost it. All mushy thoughts flew out of his head in favor of wild laughter with both hands clutched around his stomach. It was only fair. Everyone else had laughed at him when the kids had messed up his name so long ago, he figured he was fully justified in having a few good guffaws when the same thing happened to others. Not a single part of him felt bad for laughing.

It only lasted as long as it took Tobirama to allow his head to roll lazily over to one side and give him an arch look, fingers absently tickling at little baby toes to make their son squeak and wriggle.

“Keep laughing it up over there, _Madada_.”

Madara froze in an instant, all humor draining away in favor of crossed arms and loud harrumph. How rude, to remind him of his own embarrassment when he was busy taking the time to enjoy someone else’s. Couldn’t a man take a little amusement at someone else’s expense anymore?

“Hmph. Party pooper.”

“What, you don’t like it?” Tobirama rolled his head back to look up at Kagami again. “I don’t mind mine so much. There’s worse things I’ve been called than _Tobimama_.”

“I suppose so.”

Neither of them mentioned that only a couple of years ago it would have been Madara calling him most of those worse things, harsh insults screeched across the battlefield for every wound, big or small, that Tobirama had managed to land on Izuna over the years.

“Besides, now we’re a pair. That’s kind of nice isn’t it? I think we’d make a rather nice pair.”

“We’re already a pair,” Madara pointed out, more than a little put out that his partner might not consider them to be so. Tobirama didn’t look at him but he could see that soft smile of his appearing slowly.

“Not the way I meant it, exactly. What do you say? Would you like to be Kagami’s Madada and Tobimama?”

“You’re ridiculous, those aren’t our names. Why are you looking at me like that? What did I do?” Suspicion rose in him when Tobirama gave him that look which told him he had missed something again and he couldn’t help but be sure that he was the butt of some sort of joke. As irksome as it was to admit, that happened quite often.

Tobirama shook his head, slowly sitting up and rolling forward on to his knees. He rose effortlessly to his feet and propped Kagami on his hip as he crossed the few feet between them. Madara twisted his mouth to one side, trying not to look as confused as he felt, but said nothing as his partner sidled up close to him.

“You don’t do subtle, do you?” Tobirama murmured rhetorically.

“There’s subtle and then there’s making no sense,” Madara complained. “Just speak plainly!”

“Madara, I was asking if you would like to get married.”

“Oh.”

He was fairly sure he’d never made a smaller sound in his entire life. Silence descended upon the two of them and immediately began to stretch out as Madara stared at Tobirama with an open mouth and wide eyes, unable to speak or even think. His heart couldn’t seem to decide between racing out of control and stopping entirely, resulting in a skipping pattern that would have horrified a medi-nin. He didn’t even notice.

In fact, Madara noticed absolutely nothing besides Tobirama’s eyes, patiently watching him with a steady gaze and waiting quietly for him to answer. Words refused to form in his head. All he could hear was the oh-so-casual words his partner had said a moment ago. Would he like to get married? _Would he like to get married?_

“You can’t just spring something like that on someone,” Madara replied finally, his voice no more than a whisper.

“Actually I believe that is a common theme in most proposals, to surprise one’s desired fiancé.” Tobirama tilted his head forward and pressed their brows together. Madara avoided his gaze for a moment by looking down at Kagami as the little one fisted one hand in each of their shirts.

“Well…you didn’t ask properly. It’s supposed to be a question. A _real_ question.”

“My mistake.” Tobirama nudged him gently until he looked back up. “Madara, will you do me the honor of binding our hearts in marriage?”

Entirely overwhelmed still, Madara couldn’t answer at first. Horrifyingly, he could feel his lower lip quivering and his hands trembling ever so slightly. After a moment Tobirama pulled away a couple of inches and assumed a worried look.

“Madara? What is it? I can go down on one knee or something if you still think I’m not doing it properly.”

“No shut up! Of course I’ll marry you! Stupid Senju! Don’t be an idiot, what else would I say but…but…yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.” His insides were doing something incredibly strange, trying to shrink down out of sight while at the same time urging him to go stand on a rooftop somewhere and scream for the whole world to hear that Tobirama wanted _him_ , forever, for always, for _a husband_. He could hardly believe it.

He was distracted then by the lips that took his in a messy kiss, almost frantic and desperate in a way he’d never seen his partner before. While he wasn’t exactly complaining he was a little confused until they parted and he saw the wild joy in Tobirama’s expression. His smile could have lit up the village, so wide his handsome face nearly couldn’t contain it, and his eyes were so bright Madara thought it would have been worth going blind just to see them like this.

“Good,” Tobirama murmured. Despite his expression all but shouting his feelings, the word was still as quiet and soft-spoken as ever. “That’s…good.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Madara, I love you.” If Madara’s heart hadn’t already been doing complicated gymnastics it would have begun to do so the moment he heard those words spoken in such a heartfelt tone.

It should have been difficult, he thought, to reply. Expressing his emotions wasn’t something that came easily to anyone in his clan; despite their fabled capacity for love, they weren’t the best at showing it even to their most precious people. Considering that, it was strange how easy it was to look in to his partner’s eyes and murmur back to him quietly, “I love you too.”

Tobirama’s obviously pleased reaction helped a bit, although he wouldn’t admit that even under torture. He might be so deep in love he would never be able to crawl out of it but he wasn’t going _soft_ by any means.

Neither of them seemed to realize that they were simply standing there staring at each other like the protagonists of a soppy romantic play until Kagami broke the spell between them. With a loud happy shriek he pulled at the fistfuls he had of both their shirts and squirmed against Tobirama’s hip, legs kicking out until one of them bumped Madara’s stomach. He never did seem to sit still for long. When he grew up he was certainly going to be a fidgety boy.

“To-bi-ma-ma!” Kagami yelled insistently. Madara bit his lip, torn between laughter and the sappy thoughts of where that ridiculous name had led him to only minutes before.

“Right here, little one,” Tobirama agreed easily. Kagami babbled nonsensically and pulled at their shirts again, happy to have the attention returned to himself.

“You’re not his mama,” Madara objected half-heartedly.

“I take offense to that,” Tobirama said in a light tone. “I’m marrying his dada so that makes me his mama, no?”

“No! You just…you just like to tease me!”

“That too. Alright then, what am I?”

Madara looked down and mumbled in to their son’s curls. “His Papa. I got here first, Senju, I get to be Daddy.”

It was too much then. As quickly as he could without hurting their son, Madara extracted himself from Kagami’s surprisingly strong grip and guided the child over to his other father, then he stepped away from both of them and staggered back in to the kitchen. He didn’t really have anything that needed doing in here but his entire being felt full of frantic energy and if he didn’t move around a little he thought he might just burst. How strange it was to feel this way because he was _too happy_. Was that normal? It probably wasn’t normal.

Unsurprisingly, Tobirama followed him after kindly allowing him a minute or so to breathe. When his partner came in to the room he was standing by the kitchen table fiddling with a stack of paperwork they both knew was already finished; he just needed something to seem busy with so he wouldn’t look crazy for lollygagging around and trying not to explode from too many feelings.

He very carefully did not react in any way to the feeling of two strong arms sliding around his waist to pull him back against a solid chest. The sounds of quiet playing from the other room told him they were alone for now, something he was oddly grateful for. Even though apparently children didn’t begin to form memories until they were about four years old – he’d asked – it still felt weird to him to be too affectionate whenever there was anyone else around, even just their own baby. Familial affection was one thing. There was no need for _anyone_ to _ever_ watch them cuddling and smooching and all that other nonsense.

“Are you alright?” Tobirama murmured in his ear. Madara nodded.

“How did we even _get_ here?” he wondered aloud, not really looking for an answer, rather just trying to explain how overwhelmed he was by voicing his thought process. Luckily, his partner knew him well.

“I apologize if you feel like I’ve thrown this on you out of nowhere. Admittedly, I have been thinking about it lately, but I hadn’t actually planned on asking yet. Or rather, not like that.” Warm lips pressed a small kiss just below his ear. “I’d planned to do it the proper way with a ring and so on.”

With a tight throat and a burning behind his eyes that _definitely_ wasn’t the urge to cry, Madara turned around and buried himself in Tobirama. He let those arms wrap around him while he burrowed in to the man’s neck and hid his stupid wet eyes from sight.

“Nonsense,” he said quietly. “It was just fine the way it was.” And he really meant that. He didn’t need Tobirama to go down on one knee; kami knew he’d feel silly doing that himself. He didn’t need a ring or some gaudy token of affection. All he needed was already here, in his arms and in his home, in Tobirama’s eyes every time the younger man looked up at him with a sleepy loving gaze in the mornings.

“So, most beloved fiancé of mine–”

“Now you’re just making fun of me!” Madara’s head jerked upright, opening his mouth and taking in a breath in preparation of letting Tobirama know just what he thought of him for ruining that moment they had going on. He was cut off by a searing kiss.

“Kagami will be going to bed soon.” Tobirama pointed out, lips brushing his own with every syllable.

“Uh-huh…” Madara did make a solid attempt at replying, he really did. He was foiled by the way his entire nervous system had just been frizzled out by that kiss.

“Which will leave us all alone in this big cold house.”

“If…if you’re cold I could turn up the heat?”

Tobirama gave him the fond smile he so loved being on the receiving end of, even if it meant he’d said something stupid again. “I was thinking of staying warm in other ways.”

“Oh?”

Madara tilted his head curiously to the side. Then he groaned as Tobirama ducked in for more kisses, evidently doing his best to melt the older man’s brain out through his ears. It was working too. His lover pressed their bodies together and backed him up against the edge of the kitchen table. Meticulously organized paper cascaded down to the floor and neither one of them could be bothered to care; they were too busy. Tobirama slid his hands down Madara’s arms until their hands brushed and he could weave their fingers together.

“You, Uchiha Madara, belong to me.”

“I do,” Madara replied. “I really, really do.” He’d never surrendered so easily or so happily in all his life.

“And I belong to you.”

Madara whimpered.

As a very young child Madara had understood that one day he would be clan Head, responsible for the well-being and safety of each member of his clan. At the age of twelve he had made a friend and dreamed his first dreams of peace. There was no way he could have known then that he had taken his first steps to creating the future and paving the way for his own happiness. It had taken heartbreak, hard work, sweat and blood and tears. It had taken years of time. It had taken compromise, something he’d never much liked, but it had all brought him here to this moment, holding hands with his fiancé, their precious son awaiting them only one room over in the house they had all made in to a home.

The life he had now was a good one, a happy one. The boy he had befriended so long ago lived just on the other side of the little village they had built out of childhood dreams. His one remaining brother lived but a few streets away from him, gleefully flailing his way through the beginning stages of his own romantic endeavors. And Madara himself had not just his own people to watch over but an entire village. They might not be afraid of him any longer but they respected his skill and he was content to take his wins where they could be found.

Over the years as he had grown in to adulthood, Madara had taught himself to live only in the moment and think solely of the here and now. The future was a mystery and could not be relied upon so he had seen no use in giving it much thought. Now he could think of little else. Now he woke up every morning looking forward to the day ahead. He sat with his partner and talked for hours about their son’s future and where it might take him. He planned for his own future and for that of his clan.

That was, after all, his duty. And the one thing which had never and would never change was that Madara was a man who did his duty, no matter what it was. Life had really changed since the village was built and he had always done his best to adapt to each new development as it happened.

What he hadn’t banked on was babysitting duty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are at the end of the road. Thank you so, so much to everyone who's been reading this story! Your reviews and reactions have given me so much inspiration and it's really touched me to see how many people have enjoyed my crazy ramblings! ^_^


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